Living in a Sordid World

Curbing It on the Edge of the Ghetto

2012-01-29T14:12:00.000-06:00

When you live in a part of a city that could sometimes bedescribed as “the edge of the ghetto,” you discover peculiarities that peopleliving in other parts of the city are unfamiliar with.

For example, one of my friends posted on Facebook how sheand her husband were recently trapped in their garage until police arrived after a crazy woman followed their vehicle into the driveway and proceeded torap on their door for 10 minutes. When the police came, the woman flashed her“floppity meth boobs” at them in the middle of the street and yelled, “Don’tshoot! I’m a woman!”

Now, that’s the kind of entertainment you just can’t find insuburbia. And it’s free.

Having lived on the edge of the ghetto for nearly a decade,I have learned the finer benefits of my neighborhood. Don’t get me wrong; it’sa great neighborhood. I love the diversity and convenience, which is why I’vechosen to live and stay here. We have old houses and big, mature trees. And,for the most part, it’s safe — save for the occasional gang member hiding frompolice in an empty house or the criminal antics of the teenagers across thestreet.

Part of the convenience is a practice I’ve come to know as“curbing it.” Several years ago, I had a set of two dining chairs that were ingood condition but which I no longer wanted. They surely wouldn’t fit in mycompact car to drop off at Goodwill or the Salvation Army, and I don’t havemuch storage space in my house. So, taking a cue from my neighbors, I set thechairs at the curb with a sign that said, “FREE.”

The next morning, the chairs were gone. It was like amagical, hassle-free way to get rid of good stuff I no longer wanted. Sincethen, I’ve set a few large items at the curb, and they’ve always disappeared bymorning.

My sister lives about a mile from my house. A few months ago, we were talking about thispractice. Her expression brightened as she said, “Oh, you curbed it!” She and herhusband use the expression “curb it” when they have good junk they no longerwant. Until that time, I’d kept my curbside donations a secret, setting out items in the dark of night.

Then, I decided to see just how far I could take curbingjunk.

Several months ago, on a health kick, I bought a caseof V8 V-Fusion juice at Costco. I don’t like juice, and I didn’t like this oneany better. I drank two or three cans of it, then it just sat in the fridge.Finally, I got tired of looking at it. I figured I could dump it in the trash,but then I decided to curb it. Sure enough, the next morning it was gone.

Christmas ornaments or clothes you don’t want anymore? Putthem in a bag and curb it. TV that doesn’t work anymore? Curb it. You can curbvirtually anything, really.

Recently, however, I discovered the one caveat I must issueabout curbing your junk: People may steal your trash.

Over my xmasbreak, I cleaned out my linen closet and bagged up all of the good butmismatched pillow cases, blankets and sheets. I intended to drop them off atGoodwill, but in the middle preparing for my sister’s wedding, I was too busy,so I curbed them. I also tossed an old, hole-ridden comforter and other garbage in the trashcan. It just so happened that I curbed the good stuff on thesame day I had to set out the trash, but I put the bag of good stuff severalfeet from the trashcan.

The next morning, the bag of good stuff was gone — but sowas the bag that contained the holey comforter and other trash. Obviouslysomeone was going to be disappointed with the second bag.

That same day, I was at my sister’s house when I noticed arefrigerator at the curb of her neighbor’s house. A half-hour later, when wewent outside, we noticed the fridge was gone. Her neighbor came out, and welaughed and said, “So you know the secret of ‘curbing it,’ too?” He lookedconfused, and we pointed to the spot where the fridge had been.

“Someone took it?” he said. “I was going to call a serviceto pick it up!”

Yes, in less than an hour, someone had come by and taken thefridge.

I’ve since learned that people in other parts of the citycurb it. People who live near the universities have been known to curbfurniture and various items that college students find useful and pick up. Iguess you could consider curbing it as donating useful junk to the people in yourneighborhood who really need it or can find a good use for it.

Paterno’s Cheerleaders Highlight America’s Blind Obsession With Sports

2012-01-22T15:41:00.000-06:00

I’m afflicted by waves of nausea. I don’t feel feverish, andI’m certain it’s not the flu. Rather, I am sickened by the overwhelming numberof social media posts hailing Joe Paterno since the announcementof his death today. Sports fans are posting “RIP Joe Pa,” and similarsentiments all over Twitter, Facebook and other social networks.

Those sentiments just go to prove how sports-obsessed thiscountry is, even to the detriment of our children. I’ll concede that Paternowas an outstanding coach. He had a long, successful career leading the PennState football team and program. I’m certain that he positively influenced thelives of thousands of young men during his career. But he was far from perfect,and he was not worthy of idolatry. What sickens me is that now that Paterno isdead, sports fans want to be his cheerleader, ignoring the evidence that heallowed his assistant coach, Jerry Sandusky, to continue molesting young boys,even after Paterno received reports of such abuse. That’s beyond a mere “mistake.”

The American sports industry and its fans love to havesomething to cheer about. In this case, they will even cheer for a man who knewthat Sandusky was abusing boys and provided the playground for that abuse.Considering that Paterno knew about the abuse and allowed it to continue,allowed Sandusky to keep an office on the Penn State campus, and allowedSandusky to come and go as he pleased on campus, I consider Paterno anaccomplice.

Oh, sports fans claim that Paterno did what he was supposedto by reporting the incident to his superiors. Sure — he did what he was legally obligated to do. He did the bareminimum in order to protect himself and his football program. Because,ultimately, what mattered most to Paterno wasn’t the security of youths. It wasthe security of his career and his football program. Paterno had theopportunity to become a true hero by reporting the abuse to law enforcement. Hefailed to do so.

And all of that is disgusting. What is equally, perhaps evenmore, revolting is that millions of sports fans are blindly mourning Paterno’sdeath, ignoring the evidence, willing to sweep it under the rug in order tohave something to cheer about. No, Paterno didn’t diddle young boys. But is itany better that he allowed and enabled it?

I wrote a post on Facebookthis morning about how Paterno’s death demonstrates how sports-obsessed thiscountry is. Several of my friends expressed their agreement. It actuallysparked a lively discussion when one friend’s comments only proved my point.He’s a sports fan, and littered his comments with “RIP Joe Pa,” professingPaterno’s innocence and calling me and others ignorant about the case becausewe dislike sports.

I’m far from ignorant about the case. I have followed itclosely. I have read the full grand jury report(which will also turn your stomach), and I have read articles from various newssources. I’d venture to guess that’s more than the average sports fan has done.

What I’m noticing in these pro-Paterno posts is that sportsfans are content to ignore the fact that as a direct result of Paterno’sinaction potentially dozens of young boys were molested. Their lives areforever impacted by Paterno’s decision to save himself and his program ratherthan them.

And that is the sad, disgraceful state of our country.Americans are so involved with sports and idolizing athletes that they fail toconsider the negative effects on our society. We’ll pay millions of dollars fora new stadium to host theCollege World Series for 10 days a year, but we have impoverished childrenwho don’t eat and subpar schools. College and especially professional sportsare rife with immorality (to put it gently), yet millions of Americans cast ablind eye toward infidelity, doping, rape and sexual abuse, societal problemsand more in order to have something to cheer about every weekend.

That should be enough to nauseate anyone.

SOPA Sucks and Piss on PIPA

2012-01-18T11:15:00.002-06:00

I'm pretty sure that I can't make my blog go dark today without deleting it, but I want my readers to know that I'm against legislation that seeks to limit and police the Internet under the guise of stopping piracy. Write to your legislators and tell them to shove these bills where the sun don't shine. Enter your zip code on Wikipedia for the contact information for your state.

The Atheist Who Loved Xmas

2011-12-19T22:22:00.000-06:00

I’m officially going on record about two things: 1) I’m anatheist. 2) I love Christmas.

I don’t generally write “Christmas,” though; I write “Xmas.” The holiday just isn’tabout Christ to me. I don’t hate Christians or Christianity. I just don’tbelieve in the religion — or any religion, for that matter. Oh, sure, theChristmas story is nice and I can appreciate it. I just don’t believe it’sfactual. To me, Xmas is about family, traditions, friends, generosity, arespite before starting a new year and time to reflect on the past year.

I really do love everything about Xmas. (Except Santa Claus. Santa has always creeped me out. He’s too clown-like.) I love the lightsilluminating the chill air, the ambience of the lit tree in my living room. Iget a thrill from buying gifts for friends and family, trying to find thingsthat they want and others that will surprise them. Oh, sure, the intellectual part of me sometimes tries to look at holiday gift-giving like Sheldon on “The Big Bang Theory,” but gifts are so much fun that the kid in me easily wins that battle.

I love the music — even thevery Christian carols, many of which happen to be my favorites. I load my Xmasmusic playlist onto my iPod the day after Thanksgiving, and I listen to ituntil the day after Xmas.

I love the Xmas holiday rush and all the decorations. I likehow everyone seems to be a little bit nicer to one another at Xmas time, and Itake pleasure in the anticipation that builds up to Dec. 25 every year.

I treasure spending time with my crazy family and thetraditions we built when I was a child and still practice today. I lovespending extra time with my friends and family, and the year-end holiday isperfect for letting bygones be bygones and moving on.

To me, all of these things encapsulate the meaning of Xmas,and you don’t have to be a Christian to appreciate them or to partake in thefestivities.

There Really Is No ‘War on Christmas’

2011-12-16T16:40:00.003-06:00

Did you know there’s a war on Christmas? Indeed, I’ve heard conservative talk radio hosts complaining about it twice this week on KFAB. Sheesh, where’s Tom Becka when we need him?

“The war on Christmas” is what some Christians call it when more fair-minded people do things like maintain separation of church and state or choose to say “happy holidays” rather than “merry Christmas.” It seems these people believe that all kids should have a Christmas program and party at school, and everyone should say “merry Christmas.”

You, too, you crazy Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, pagans and other non-Christian religions. Who cares what holidays you celebrate; it’s all about Christmas, dammit. Oh, and we atheists are going to burn in hell, but maybe we can save our souls just a little by shouting “merry Christmas” through the streets.

“Why do they want to pretend it’s not Christmas?” has been a common sentiment from hosts and callers alike on the shows I’ve heard. Why? Because for billions of other people on Earth, it’s not Christmas; it’s Yule, Hanukkah, or another holiday, maybe one not even celebrated in December, that’s why. I’ve listened to dozens of Christians complain that they feel their religious beliefs are being attacked every time someone says “happy holidays” instead of “merry Christmas,” and that they want their kids to be able to celebrate Christmas in school.

Well, the latter is easy: Send your fucking kid to a Christian school. They’ll celebrate plenty of Christmas there. But don’t expect it in the public schools. What are the Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist or atheist kids supposed to do while your brat is celebrating Christmas? In addition, I have to wonder how those Christians would feel if their kids celebrated Christmas in school but also celebrated Hanukkah, Ramadan, Winter Solstice and other non-Christian religious holidays.

Christians actually feel attacked because someone says “happy holidays” or because their kid’s class has a holiday party rather than a Christmas party? From what I’ve seen, it’s usually Christians doing the attacking, and their insistence that Christmas is king only proves my point.

Watch the War on Christmas PSA

Christians can be a pushy lot: They go out and actively recruit new members, often visiting other countries, telling people that their beliefs are wrong because Christianity is the only “right” path. Some Christians go door to door trying to convert others to their way of thinking. The fact is a specific group of Christians just aren’t content with their own personal beliefs; they want everyone else to also share those beliefs.

Yet certain Christians are the first to complain about everyone else not sharing their beliefs.

In a past life, when I waited tables, I started saying “happy holidays” to my customers for three reasons: First, I’d had enough of Christianity in general. Second, I felt like automatically saying “merry Christmas” to my customers might make some people feel like I was closed-minded and only knew about Christmas. I didn’t want people of other religions to think that I didn’t accept them and their beliefs. Third, “happy holidays” encompasses whatever winter holiday you celebrate, as well as New Year’s, and you can even stretch it to include Thanksgiving.

“Happy holidays” stuck for me, and for the most part it has worked well — although I’ve certainly encountered my share of crusty Christians who squint their eyes and look down their noses at me as they respond, “Merry Christmas!” as though they have now put me in my place.

Here’s an idea: Let’s all be open-minded and not assume that everyone shares our personal beliefs. Let’s respect everyone’s personal beliefs, no matter how much we might think they’re wrong and we’re right. And let’s not accuse the people who want to do this of waging war on Christmas.

In a day or two, I’ll blog about the atheist who loves Christmas (me).

Down With DST

2011-02-15T12:58:00.012-06:00

Every year, twice a year, I lament daylight saving time and the idiocy that encourages the continuance of this antiquated practice. Two states — Arizona and Hawaii — have already nixed DST, and I was excited at the thought that Nebraska might join them in shunning a practice that no longer makes sense but only makes life more difficult when it disrupts the cadence of my circadian rhythm twice a year.

Nebraska State Sen. Ken Schilz, from Ogallala, has become something of a personal hero to me — and not just because Ogallala is fun to say. Schilz introduced LB 101, a bill that would eliminate daylight saving time in Nebraska.

“Hallelujah!” I cheered. I was ready to marry Sen. Schilz. I was preparing to praise Nebraska for its forward-thinking attitude. I was already planning on not “springing up” this year.

And then, last week, my dreams were shattered. The state legislature took no action on LB 101 and declared it indefinitely postponed.

In crafting LB 101, Schilz cited the health and well-being of children and others who are affected negatively by DST or who require a strict schedule, such as diabetics. Furthermore, evidence shows that the severity of auto accidents increases and work productivity decreases as people try to adjust to the time change.

Schilz received criticism from Nebraskans who said that we have more important things to make laws for than DST. Maybe, but I think this is an important issue to those of us who have sensitive sleep cycles and spend a month in misery trying to adapt to the time change.

Moreover, the original reasons for implementing DST no longer apply. If you believe that DST started to give farmers an extra hour to work their fields, then you’ll be surprised to learn that farmers don’t like DST; they can’t start working the fields earlier than standard time because they have to wait for the sun to dry the dew on their crops.

One of the strongest reasons that DST proponents cite is reduced energy use in the evening. However, if there is reduced energy use in the evening, no one’s been able to prove it definitively; in fact, some studies even suggest an increase in energy use in the evening in southern states and states where the weather is hotter, requiring increased use of air conditioners.

In addition, 70 percent of Americans have to get up before the sun rises during DST, so they’re actually using more energy during that time, negating some of the savings that an extra hour of sunlight in the evening may bring. Overall, studies have declared the savings that result from daylight saving time to be “insignificant.”

Regarding energy savings, consider this finding after Indiana fully switched to DST in 2005:

“The argument in favor of saving energy swayed Indiana, where until 2005, only about 16 percent of counties observed daylight saving time. Based on the DOT study, advocates of Indiana DST estimated that the state’s residents would save over $7 million in electricity costs each year. Now that Indiana has made the switch, however, researchers have found the opposite to be the case. ... They found that Indianans actually spent $8.6 million more each year because of daylight saving time, and increased emissions came with a social cost of between $1.6 million and $5.3 million per year. Commentators have theorized that the energy jump is due to the increased prevalence of home air conditioning over the past 40 years, in that more daylight toward the end of a summer’s day means that people are more likely to use their air conditioners when they come home from work.”

As you can see, not only is this antiquated practice one that disrupts our sleep cycle, but it’s doing so for no good reason and may actually be costing us more in energy use and costs.

So, dear Sen Schilz: Please keep trying to kill DST in Nebraska. You’re my hero.

Dram Shop Liability Laws? Yes, Please

2011-01-03T22:27:00.002-06:00

When I first started bartending, I was 18 and lived in Michigan. There, all bartenders had to take an alcohol awareness class and pass a test in order to serve alcohol. This class taught how alcohol’s effects differed based on whether the drinker was male or female and the signs that someone was drunk. The reason for the class and test was that Michigan had a dram shop liability law, which stated that the bartender and/or bar owner could be held responsible for damages or injuries committed by a person served in their establishment. The bar/nightclub owner I worked for didn’t mess around; bartenders were expected to cut off customers unless they were regulars who we knew took taxis home, and this was standard at all bars.

When I moved to Nebraska, I started tending bar in a busy neighborhood dive bar. We had customers who would drink until they literally passed out on the bar. I was 19, and I figured Nebraska had a law similar to Michigan’s so I cut off people when I knew they’d had too much to drink.

One day, the bar owner approached me and said, “Did you cut off PW last night?”

“Yes,” I said. “He was sleeping at the bar.”

“We don’t cut people off,” she said.

I was flabbergasted. You’d rather have someone with their head on the bar, sleeping? Someone who I later watched night after night then get into his car and drive?

I lost respect for my boss, and I felt defenseless against the drunks I was serving.

Recently, Nebraska proposed a dram shop liability law — a law that would make bar owners responsible for injuries or damages committed by a drunk driver. Currently, 22 states have these laws, and 14 additional states have limited variations of them. I’m hearing a lot of discussion about the topic on KFAB, and although it may be an unpopular opinion, I agree with passing a dram shop liability law in Nebraska. In fact, in a state with so many drunk driving arrests, I can’t believe this law wasn’t passed many years ago.

I’ve been on both sides of the bar, and I bartended for 14 years. As a bartender, I absolutely loathed serving sloppy drunks. Sure, everyone gets drunk and has fun. But when someone has had far too much to drink, they’re a bartender’s biggest pain in the ass. I didn’t enjoy old men flirting with me to a point flirting should never reach. I didn’t enjoy men getting drunk and brawling in my bar. And I most certainly didn’t enjoy cleaning up a drunk’s booze-barf. I could tell you stories about drunks that would curl your toes.

In fact, it got to the point that I started bartending in mid- to upscale restaurant bars that allowed the bartender to cut off people when they were obviously drunk. Life’s too short to deal with sloppy drunks every night.

In my early 20s, I often wished that bartenders would have cut me off the night before. Wondering how I got myself and my car home the night before was the least of my worries. I could have killed someone. Sometimes, I was so drunk that I’d pull into a parking lot and sleep for a couple of hours because I couldn’t drive home.

I’m certainly not proud of this behavior, but back then and still now, I wonder why no bartender ever said, “Honey, you’ve had enough. Save your money and go home.” None of them offered to call a taxi. None of them stopped adding booze to my drinks.

These were things I learned as a bartender. Personally, I think it’s common courtesy to offer to call a cab for someone who is too drunk to drive. I also was known among my peers for serving drunks nonalcoholic beer rather than their regular beer, or adding just a splash of booze to a mixed drink. Honestly, when someone is drunk, they don’t know the difference, and I was not only doing myself the favor of not having to deal with an asshole, but I was also doing them a favor. (P.S. I didn’t charge them for “fake” mixed drinks, either, because I’m nice like that.)

I think the main reason more bartenders here don’t cut off drunk people is they have no recourse. If you cut someone off, you’re an asshole or a bitch. When I worked in Michigan, it was easy. All you had to say was, “Sorry, man. I don’t have a choice. It’s the law.” Moreover, the bartenders at every establishment did the same thing, so it wasn’t like a drunk person could say, “Well, I never get cut off at X bar. You just suck.”

As a libertarian, I’d like to say that dram shop liability laws are unnecessary and that government is just butting in where it doesn’t belong. But my experience as a bartender (and as a former drunk) shows that all too often people don’t know when to stop drinking. Drunks often don’t know they’re drunk, so one more drink always sounds good. Then they think they’re OK to drive home, too.

Since we can’t count on drunk people to realize they’re drunk, we have to put the responsibility in the hands of the people who control the booze. And the only way to ensure that bartenders and bar owners maintain that responsibility is to make them liable.

The Myth of the ‘Crazy Cat Lady’

2010-12-19T10:10:00.013-06:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about cat people and dog people lately. I started a new job, and meeting new people can be tricky for a cat person, as it’s all too easy to be labeled the “crazy cat lady” when you’re surrounded by a pack of dog lovers — particularly if they are lovers of big dogs. In my experience, people who like small dogs usually like both dogs and cats; the real dog people* are those who like their dogs ranging in the big to behemoth size, and they generally hate both cats and small dogs.

So, quickly picking up that I was among dog lovers and even some actual cat haters at my new workplace, I kept quiet about my feline affection. Then the day came, during a staff meeting, when everyone was talking about their dogs. I continued to doodle pretty little flowers on my notepad, trying to blend in with the furniture, much like I do when the discussion turns to sports, which I loathe. And then, it seemed as though everyone’s head turned toward me at the same time, eyes probing as the pack leader barked, “Do you have a dog?”

“No,” I mewled sheepishly. “I’m more of a cat person, although I am very fond of several of my friends’ dogs.”

“Oh. How many cats do you have?”

There it is. The question I dread. Really, now, why do dog people always ask cat people how many cats they have? It’s like they’re looking for reasons to harass us. I never ask dog people, “How many dogs do you have?” And why do dog people always insist on having this discussion in groups? One-on-one, I can defend myself and my feline fondness perfectly well against a smelly old dog person, but they always get together and corner the cat person.

“Three,” I responded, and then I said in unison with the pack leader, “Yep, crazy cat lady,” adding a dry, sarcastic “ha ha” at the end.

Yes, I have three fluffy cats whom I adore, and that apparently makes me a crazy cat lady. But I’ve always wondered why.

The old man across the street from me has three dogs. I have a delightful friend who has three pugs. I know other people who have two, three, four dogs. But you never hear people who live with multiple dogs called “deranged dog people.”

Yes, I know the stories about the senile old bats who horde cats, but hording is a psychological condition, a mental illness, and if not cats, they’d be hording something else equally bizarre. In fact, they frequently horde both cats and dogs. Three cats is by no means hording, and there’s no way that one more cat is coming to live with me. Litter-box duty for three cats is painful enough.

The litter box is always a topic that dog people bring up as a reason they don’t like cats: Cats use a box that you have to scoop; dogs just crap outside. Well, doggie adorers, don’t you have to scoop the poop in your yards? Because if you don’t scoop the poop in your yard, I’m here to tell you that doggie-doo baking in 100-degree weather transforms your backyard into a stockyard. And then there’s the imminent danger of stepping in a pile any time you walk around your yard, whereas I can freely roam my yard without the fear of a poo-covered shoe.

I realize that dog people are generally extroverts and social butterflies, and they want their pets to be the same way. Cats tend to be introverted, but consider, too, that cat people tend to be introverts. Yes, your dog loves to be the life of the party, while most cats don’t like loud, noisy environments and huge groups of people. But neither do I, so that works out well for us. Furthermore, I like co-existing with an animal rather than it needing my constant attention. In fact, that would annoy me. Which is also why I don’t have children.

I don’t need an animal to automatically love me, either. In fact, I rather like it when they make you earn their trust and respect, much like cats do. Small dogs are often this way, too. For example, Chihuahuas are usually very picky about the people they like. I think cat people tend to have more of a friendship with their pets rather than a master–servant relationship.

My wish for the New Year is for dog people to become more open-minded and release the notion of the “crazy cat lady” just because they hate (or are they afraid of?) cats. There’s no reason we can’t all get along and live harmoniously. Just not in the same house, thank you.

* For the purposes of this post, “dog person” refers to those who like big dogs. Small-dog lovers should feel free to consider themselves cat people here, as they are often the targets of big-dog lovers, too.

Dog Person or Cat Person: Who Would You Vote For?

2010-11-12T10:28:00.007-06:00

In September, Macleans columnist Scott Feschuk wrote how it was unfair for Canadians to have to choose between two cat lovers for prime minister with nary a dog lover in sight. Evidently both candidates, Stephen Harper and Michael Inatieff, are well-documented feline aficionados, and Feschuk really wants a dog lover in office. He describes cats as “the perfect animal to own 200 of if you want to be an eccentric shut-in,” and claims that dogs “project an image of vitality and loyalty,” as well as make great companions for photo ops.

I think Feschuk is missing the point. Whether a leader is a dog person or cat person might just say something about his leadership style. While Feschuk states that U.S. presidents tend to be dog owners, he must have forgotten that one of our greatest and most influential presidents in modern times, Bill Clinton, was the proud owner of Socks, the White House cat. Thus, I think that for Feschuk this is less about the leadership styles of dog people versus cat people and more about the fact that he likes dogs better than cats.

At any rate, it’s well-theorized that there are fundamental differences in the personalities of dog people versus those of cat people. Although I don’t think anyone should base their votes on whether a candidate is a cat person or dog person, I do think that animal preference may shed some light on what type of person he or she is and perhaps what type of leadership style we can expect.

For example, during an interview in 2006, Stephen Harper said, “I think people should elect a cat person. If you elect a dog person, you elect someone who wants to be loved. If you elect a cat person, you elect someone who wants to serve.”

Now, I’ve never known a cat who I can say served its owner, but I can see Harper’s point: Dog people want to be loved and tend to follow the pack. Cat people aren’t afraid to do what they think is right, even if it causes the pack to make some noise. And if you’re willing to put up with a howling pack, then you’re probably pretty devoted to serving your people.

I’ve always liked the line from Robert De Niro’s fierce patriarch character in Meet the Parents, after he says that dogs are “emotionally shallow” animals: “You see … a dog is very easy to break, but cats make you work for their affection. They don’t sell out the way dogs do.”

That, in essence, is the fundamental difference between cats and dogs and, I believe, between cat people and dog people. Dog people love everyone and want to make everyone happy. They're very social, they like people and they need a reason not to like someone (and even with good reason not to like someone, they probably won't dislike the person).

Cat people, on the other hand, often wait to see what people are like before deciding whether to trust and befriend them. I also don't think cat people are as disappointed as dog people if someone doesn't like them or disagrees with them. And cat people spend so much time watching that they tend to see beneath the façade people wear. They store information for later, for a time when it might become relevant or useful.

And finally, cat people tend to handle situations calmly, with grace and charm rather than galloping through the house with muddy paws, knocking over the end tables on their way.

Those, however, are my own perceptions about cat people and dog people. If you want to know what the experts say, check out the results of a survey developed by the University of Texas at Austin. To sum it up, dog people are more self-disciplined, outgoing, enthusiastic, energetic, trusting, kind, affectionate and sociable. Cat people are more curious, creative, artistic, independent, willing to try new things, and unconventional in thinking and behavior.

Only 12 percent of survey respondents said they were cat people, while 46 percent said they were dog people. Of the remainder, 28 percent said they were both dog and cat people, and 15 percent said they were neither.

Obviously, both have their good qualities, and as much as I adore my cats, I'm quite fond of several pooches I know. I think Feschuk needs to lighten up on cat people. A photo of a nation’s leader playing fetch in the yard with a dog doesn’t make him a better leader than the leader with his cat curled up on his lap.

Mixing Up the Melting Pot

2010-10-10T10:41:00.008-05:00

I’m still stuck on the call from Jade on “The Dr. Laura Show” in August. When the call began, Jade had a real problem with her (white) husband’s friends and family asking questions about the African-American culture. She considered it “racist” for them to ask, for example, “Why do black people do ...?” or “Do black families …?”

It seems to me that Jade is oversensitive about racism and looking for it all around her. I’m not sure why a woman so sensitive to something that might be perceived as racism would even marry a white man.

As humans, we have a natural curiosity about other people and other cultures. Is it racist to ask a Jew about Hanukkah traditions? Is it xenophobic to ask immigrants about the cultures and celebrations in their native countries? Is it bigoted to ask someone of a different religion about their religion, beliefs, celebrations and traditions? Are we all just supposed to remain in the dark about the world around us and never learn about other people?

My experience with people from overseas and of different cultures and religions is that they like to talk about how they do things, and they enjoy discussing the differences between the ways they know and the ways others do things.

Why, then, are some black people so hypersensitive to these questions?

I say “some” because by no means are all black people hypersensitive. My brother-in-law is black, and I have a few black friends, and they’ve always been wonderful at helping me to understand idiosyncrasies of their culture and give me the inside scoop about it. They’ve never called me a racist. Now, I’ve never ridiculed their ways or beliefs, either. I can completely understand someone becoming offended if a white person asks a question just to scorn or jeer the answer. That certainly is racist behavior.

I’m a true believer in “people fear the unknown,” and I think that if more people would ask intelligent questions about other people, their cultures and their values, then we would be a more harmonious society. It’s really the first step to reducing and eventually eliminating racism.

The United States doesn’t have a single culture; rather, we have hundreds of cultures that meld together to form the “American culture.” That was the founding idea behind our country, after all. We are a melting pot, and immigrants from around the world have come together to make the United States what it is. Our country wouldn’t be as great as it is if you eliminated even one of the hundreds of cultures that compose it.

Rather than searching for the divisions between these cultures, we ought to be seeking to learn about them, removing the fear and easing relations between all people. Likewise, we must be willing to share with others the different values and traditions in our own cultures so that they won’t fear the unknown. Until we achieve this, we’re not being very good Americans.

The Power of the N-Word

2010-10-01T09:51:00.002-05:00

In August, Dr. Laura Schlessinger announced that she would be quitting her radio talk show. Her decision came after an African-American caller named Jade sought Schlessinger’s advice about her perceived racism from her white husband’s friends and family. Jade became outraged at Schlessinger’s use of the N-word. Schlessinger didn’t call Jade the name; she merely used it as an example, saying that if you watch black comedians on HBO, all you hear is “nigger, nigger, nigger.”

The mere use of the word offended Jade, and the story became a national media fiasco. I don’t condone the use of the N-word, but Schlessinger was using it as an example; she wasn’t directing the word toward anyone. But Jade became upset at the mere mention of the word, regardless of Dr. Laura's usage.

As a writer, editor and aficionado of linguistics, I’m interested in the power of words on culture and society. I agree that the N-word is offensive. It hearkens back to the days of slavery, and for anyone who’s black or has read Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, it leaves a bitter taste on the tongue.

However, rather than working to eradicate the word from American vernacular, black people have twisted the word into some kind of members-only cultural colloquialism. That is, it’s OK to say the N-word or call someone an N-word only if you both are black. Should someone of another race utter the N-word, we are racist assholes.

If the word is truly so offensive, then why retain it in your vocabulary at all? Rather than trying to make the word OK in the black culture, blacks should be making a conscious, concerted effort to eliminate it altogether. After all, you don't hear white people going around calling each other "honky" or "cracker." You don't hear Jewish people or people of certain ethnicities and nationalities calling each other derogatory nicknames.

I think I understand the intention of trying to take away a word’s power by using it as a friendly term of endearment, a la “nigga,” but if you’re truly going to transform the word’s meaning, then white people should be able to call each other the N-word, and they should be able to call anyone else — black, Asian, whatever — the N-word, too.

The problem is that it never caught on. The N-word started out a derogatory name for black people, and it will forever remain that. Thus, the black community needs to work to eradicate it from the English language.

That means, going back to Schlessinger’s point with Jade, that black comedians, rappers and others need to stop calling each other — and themselves — the N-word. The death of the N-word is well over 100 years overdue. If black people kill it among themselves, then the word will finally lose its power.

The Post-Recession Workforce

2010-09-01T18:56:00.003-05:00

This recession is going to be bad for business — and not only in the obvious ways. Having been a part of a large corporate layoff, I have a lot of friends who have struggled with losing their jobs, experienced long stretches of unemployment, been underemployed, taken jobs either outside their chosen field or lower down on the totem pole, and taken significant pay cuts. And I’ve noticed some common things that are occurring in the workforce and which will have long-term effects.

I’d been laid off before, but I had never been unemployed before, as I was able to immediately find another job. And, according to my friends and family, I wasn’t unemployed this last time, either, because I freelanced full time while I searched for another regular job. I was one of the few lucky ones. I had freelance clients when I was laid off, and I was able to increase my work with those clients, as well as gain new clients. In fact, freelance led to my current job. It never would have worked if I wasn’t a good saver, with money in the bank, but I managed. Others — most — have not been so lucky.

I have friends who accepted jobs they truly loathe, who have taken a step down in their careers and who have taken pay cuts of 20 to 40 percent. They’re not happy in their current jobs, but with such a tight job market, they have no choice but to stay in them until something better opens up. Of course, the competition for those few jobs is so stiff that they have a one in five chance of landing those jobs.

These are good people who gave everything they had to their jobs. As a result of the letdown of being laid off by a company to which they were loyal and in addition to their current job situations, I’m seeing a lot of people who are no longer loyal to their employers, who are at their jobs because they have families and mortgages and bills. I’m not saying that they are no longer good workers — they are — but their hearts aren’t in their work anymore, and they have placed a renewed focus on their families and their lives outside of work.

These workers are exhausted from working too hard, dealing with the struggles of unemployment and searching for a job — any job — to support their families. While happy to finally have found jobs, they feel used and abused by their new employers, who are offering much lower salaries because they can — because so many people need a job. In short, they’re looking at their jobs much differently today than just a couple of years ago.

This new attitude is in stark contrast to what American companies have become accustomed. The previous generations of workers have been intensely devoted to their jobs and loyal to their employers. They have put work at the top of their lists — many have put work before their families and their personal lives.

Moreover, the employees who have managed to retain their jobs are now expected to do more work for the same or less pay. Just because they kept their jobs doesn’t mean that their companies haven’t had layoffs. They have, and those left behind are the ones doing not only their jobs but also those of their laid-off counterparts. Raises are few and low in this economy, bonuses have become relics of the past, and some companies have even cut salaries by 10 to 20 percent. It’s become the price you pay for keeping your job. The result of this is a tired, burned-out workforce. They’re ripe for change.

Enter the Millennials, also known as Generation Y. Today, multiple generations are fully immersed in the American workforce, and more importantly, they are diverse generations. And the youngest generation — the Millennials — has a whole different attitude toward work than baby boomers and Generation Xers.

Aside from their technological savvy and dependence, their ability to multitask, and their expectation of getting a lot for giving a little, Millennials don’t have the built-in loyalty to employers that previous generations have demonstrated. Most of them fully expect not only to have multiple jobs in their lifetimes but also to have multiple careers in their lifetimes. Pew Research Center studies reveal that Millennials are much more focused on their families and their lives outside of work than their predecessors. And this will have profound effects on the workforce.

So, with the attitude of Millennials and that of unhappy employees trying to recover from the devastation of layoffs and unemployment, it won’t be long before even the employees who have kept their jobs become less dedicated. It’s already afflicting today’s workforce, and I suspect it will become epidemic.

American companies are used to employees who give their jobs 110 percent and who are at their positions for the long haul. But this is changing, and it makes me wonder what the workforce will look like in five or 10 years.

Taxed to Death

2010-08-25T12:26:00.003-05:00

This week, the Omaha City Council approved several of Mayor Jim Suttle’s proposed tax increases, although the amounts approved by City Council were less than those proposed by Suttle. Nevertheless, here we are, living in Omaha and paying some of the highest taxes in the nation.

The new taxes will begin Oct. 1 and call for the following increases: a $15 increase in the ridiculous “wheel tax,” bringing the annual total to $50 per car, or $10 per tire (spare tires count, too, for those of you who aren’t familiar with a wheel tax). And even if you don’t live in Omaha but merely work here, you’ll now be subjected to the $50 tax because you drive on our roads five days a week. The next tax we’ll see is a 2.5 percent “entertainment tax” on food and drinks in restaurants and bars, bringing the total tax charged on those items to 9.5 percent. (Sales tax in a true metropolis like Chicago is 10 percent.) And finally, if you own property, you’re fair game for new taxes, so you’ll see an increase of 50 cents per $100 of assessed value.

Some people who live outside Omaha or Nebraska might think we’re a bunch of whiners who just don’t want tax increases. Well, who really does want tax increases? But more importantly, Nebraskans already pay some of the highest taxes in the nation because the majority of our state is farmland. So, we still have the same amount of land and number of roads to support, but there aren’t as many people paying taxes. Thus, the individual tax burden is higher than that in more densely populated states. Add to that the very bad decisions made by our previous and current mayors, and you’ll see Omaha as a city at the mercy of its lawmakers. And they like taxes and useless buildings.

Consider the Qwest Center, a project approved by former Mayor Hal Daub. Daub promised that with the Qwest Center, Omaha would become a destination for concerts, conventions and large national events. He also promised that property tax increases would not be necessary to pay for the Qwest Center.

Daub’s plan was flawed for multiple reasons. First, it’s still Omaha, Neb. Nobody thinks of us as a sprawling metropolis or destination for anything other than the College World Series (more on that racket later). So, without a major regional public image campaign to raise awareness of Omaha as a destination, we haven’t seen the number of events that Daub promised. The building sits empty at least 300 days a year. Sure, we’ve gotten some big-name concerts — Elton John, the Rolling Stones, Bon Jovi — but not enough to justify that building. We can still drive two or three hours to Ames, Iowa, or Kansas City for major concerts. And for the few that have actually made it to Omaha, it would have been just as well to drive.

The Olympic swim trials were held at the Qwest Center a couple of years ago. So what? Sure, maybe a few people who hadn’t previously heard of Omaha now heard our name, but I don’t see any long-term benefit of having the trials here. They certainly didn’t go toward paying for that flop of a building because last year, our property taxes increased to pay for it anyway. And the parking is such a clusterfuck at the Qwest Center that some Omahans are starting to forego events there just because they don’t want to deal with the parking and traffic.

Next, we have Mayor Mike Fahey, who kowtowed to the NCAA when they demanded a better stadium for the College World Series. But rather than renovate Omaha’s historical Rosenblatt Stadium, Fahey buckled to the NCAA and offered to build an entirely new stadium, near the Qwest Center. So now, we have another huge piece of property that is being built, this one solely for the CWS to use 10 days a year. Does anyone think it’s logical to build an entire stadium that will be used just 10 days a year?

Omahans didn’t even have the opportunity to vote on the new stadium. Fahey just said, “We’ll do it,” and began building.

Fahey should have looked the NCAA in the eye and said, “Fuck off. The CWS is synonymous with Omaha, and if renovating a stadium isn’t good enough for you, then take your event elsewhere.” Personally, I think there’s a really good chance the NCAA would have compromised had Fahey not bent over and invited them to screw us all in the ass.

So, when our city’s budget fell short this year, it’s no wonder to me where all the money has gone: the Qwest Center and the new baseball stadium.

Consider another not-so-brilliant moment in Omaha history: In 2004, the Nebraska legislature nixed casino gambling in the state. You might not think this is a massive blunder, until you consider that Omaha, the largest city in the state, had the opportunity to open riverboat casinos on the Nebraska side of the Missouri River. Again, this might not seem such a big deal. But consider that our neighbors in Council Bluffs, Iowa, — merely a car ride over a bridge away from us — have two riverboat casinos, as well as another casino. So all that tax money from the casinos goes to Iowa, and you can bet your grandma’s panties that there are plenty of Omahans and other Nebraskans in those casinos.

So, in order to preserve Nebraska’s conservative image, our lawmakers turned down millions and millions of dollars in tax money that could have gone a long way to improving our schools, fixing our roads and saving our asses during the current recession. But no, we’d rather give all of that tax money to Iowa.

The lawmakers cited an increase in crime and gambling addiction as a key reason to outlaw casino gambling. But Omaha has already suffered the consequences of casino gambling. You don’t really think we went unscathed just because the casinos were built on the Iowa side of the Missouri River, do you? In the mid- to late 1990s, Omaha suffered an unprecedented spate of bank robberies. In fact, I wrote several newspaper articles about the subject at the time. When I interviewed detectives from Omaha Police Department’s robbery unit, they attributed the high number of bank robberies to the then-new casinos. We’ve already suffered the consequences of casino gambling — and we’ve never seen a dime of the tax money we could have from it.

So, now we have Mayor Jim Suttle, a man who was elected merely because his opponent was Hal “Qwest Center” Daub, and no one in Omaha wanted him fucking things up again. After he was elected, Suttle hired some of his pals to replace others in city office positions — at 10 percent higher than what their predecessors were making. Suttle claimed that he had to offer more money to get good, quality people, aka his cronies.

Um, excuse me, but that’s not how it works in a recession. I was laid off in 2008. It took me 13 months to find another job in my field, and I’m making 20 percent less than I was at my old job, with far less in the way of insurance coverage (so I’m making about 30 percent less than I was). And it’s not just me. Talk to anyone who’s been laid off during this recession and you’ll find that salaries have dropped significantly. You can even talk to people who have kept their jobs and discover that they aren’t receiving raises, they’re expected to do not only their jobs but also those of the laid-off people, and some of them have even had their salaries decreased by 10 to 20 percent.

So where the fuck does Suttle get off paying his buddies 10 percent more than their predecessors with tax money from people who are making less than they were just a few years ago? And then, when his budget is out of control, he comes back to us for even more money in the form of new and increased taxes. Frankly, I’m feeling like I’m taxed to death in Omaha.

If you want a good example of what not to do when running a city, take a look at Omaha’s last three mayors and our state legislature. They’ve laid out a plan for exactly how to spend far too much money on useless buildings and refuse to bring money into the state, preferring to give it to Iowa.

The Pain of Growing Older

2010-06-22T12:29:00.005-05:00

As I grow older, I sometimes curse the aspects of aging that my mother never warned me about. In my 20s, it was the fact that gravity took over my butt. All of the sudden, skinny as I was, I had developed a butt. I suppose if I’d thought about it logically, I would have realized that gravity pulls things downward, toward the Earth, but when I was around 24, I was quite perturbed to find gravity having its way with my ass.

In my late-20s, it was chin hair. Who would think that a woman would have to check for coarse, often dark-colored chin hairs every morning, then yank them out with a pair of tweezers? Plucking eyebrows is bad enough. Chin hairs are ridiculous. These are stiff little hairs that you can feel if you gently run your finger beneath your chin, and once I discovered them, I became obsessed, yanking and plucking them every single morning and night. And should I miss one, I play with it all day long, and race up the stairs as soon as I get home to eradicate it. My sister has strict instructions to check for and tweeze any chin hairs before my funeral.

Body hair kind of repulses me anyway, so it’s a good thing I’m not one of those hairy women. If I were, I would spend hours every week eliminating the offending follicles.

Now that I’m well into my 30s, one of the things I wish my mother had warned me about is enlarged pores — although I’ve read enough about the condition that I was prepared for the early signs. I’ve always had beautiful skin, with the occasional blemish and some problems in the summer. Once I started noticing the pores on the apples of my cheeks becoming slightly larger than they used to be, I took preventive action almost immediately. It was off to the aesthetician for me, and I fell in love with microderm abrasion and chemical peels. I daresay my skin is more luminous now than it was in my 20s.

Nothing, not even Mom, could have prepared me for what I consider the worst part of aging thus far: gas. For quite a few years, I worked with a friend who was especially prone to gas. In fact, she jokes that the second thing she did out of the womb was fart. She kept a healthy supply of Gas-Ex in her desk drawer, which came in handy when I started a medication that I would take long-term, and the resulting gas was like nothing I’d ever before experienced but have since come to know intimately.

Throughout the last couple of years, I have come to realize that if a medication’s possible side effects include gas, constipation or weight gain, those are the side effects I will definitely suffer. Now, imagine my life when I tell you I take multiple medications that could possibly cause any or all of these side effects. I ought to just buy a large amount of stock in the company that makes Gas-Ex.

The women at my workplace tend to be one of two age groups: under 30 or over 40. I am the lone 30-something. I am on my own when it comes to finding my way through chin hair, gas and weight gain. In a recent meeting, the topic turned to aging, and I looked at the under-30 group and said, “You’re young. You have no idea about the gas yet.” The girls laughed, while the other side of the table, the over-40 group, nodded sympathetically and agreed.

The problem with gas and aging is that there’s not one trigger you can always count on. I may be one of the lucky ones in that I have identified that medications — just about any medication — will usually make me flatulent. But that’s only one of potentially thousands — maybe millions — of triggers. Sometimes onions make me gassy, but sometimes not. Same with garlic. Occasionally odd things sneak up on me, like popcorn, cottage cheese or nuts. Sometimes I have absolutely no idea what could possibly have caused my suffering. Other times I know that the meal before me is definitely going to cause problems later.

This is the case with Greek food lately. I love Greek food. I eat it at least once a week. And for the last three months I have paid dearly for that love. I have no idea what it is in the chicken souvlaki and Greek potatoes that does it — maybe it’s the tzatziki sauce — but something definitely inflates me with stinky air. In addition, about 60 percent of the time, Greek food also gives me heartburn lately.

The problem with Greek and other food is that I have no idea when it might turn from delicious to painful and embarrassing. Sometimes the bloated, gassy feeling strikes about an hour after eating. Other times, it could be the next day. This makes it incredibly difficult to identify exactly what is causing the gas. I suspect that once you get older, everything causes gas, and you just have to carry Gas-Ex with you everywhere you go.

I recently mentioned to my mother my displeasure with her failure to adequately warn me about the pitfalls of aging. She smiled sweetly and said, “There’s more. There’s much more. But I’m going to leave it all as a surprise.”

To Scan or Not to Scan

2010-06-08T21:44:00.003-05:00

Today Omaha’s Eppley Airfield implemented the TSA’s new full-body scan technology, much to my chagrin. A discussion on Tom Becka’s Facebook page revealed that some Omahans aren’t concerned about the invasiveness of the scanners. More modest residents said they are concerned, and some even voiced discomfort with allowing their children to go through the scanners.

I support airport safety and keeping the country free of terrorist attacks. That’s why I want the TSA to implement effective means of security, not just more measures that make people think they’re safe. Some are happy with anything the TSA or the government implements just so they can feel warm and safe. Airport security measures have become their security blankets. Mission accomplished. Terrorism dead in the USA? Hardly.

The reports reveal that regardless of what measures and procedures the TSA claims it has in place, they’re not working. Every time the TSA receives a negative report, it comes up with some newfangled security measure to appease its critics.

Nevertheless, bombs have been brought onto planes, and terrorists have entered our country. And let’s not forget that a year ago even I was able to travel from Omaha to Denver to Las Vegas and back again, going through security at all three airports, and not one TSA worker caught my stun gun. (Las Vegas caught the souvenir lighters I bought, but you’ll have to read that blog post for that story.) As for liquids, I’ve also traveled with those in my purse and carry-on without separating them into the TSA’s regulation quart-size, clear zipper bag.

Advocates of the full-body scanners need to realize that airport security measures only keep the honest people honest. None of these methods of inspection is as foolproof as we want to believe — or the government wants us to believe. The terrorists are already well on their way to learning how to outsmart this newest security measure. We’ll all find that out the next time someone successfully sneaks a bomb on a plane.

For example, Eppley and other airports are giving passengers the choice to submit to the body scanner or to walk through the metal detector and submit to a pat-down. I’m guessing the terrorists are going to choose the alternative to the body scanner — more chance for human error or carelessness — so that basically renders the scanners ineffective from day one.

Perhaps these security measures would be more successful if we couldn’t count on the TSA to regularly do something stupid — like allow a passenger on the no-fly list to board an airplane. That defeats these scanners and other security measures altogether.

Considering all of this, I find these scanners far too invasive. Now, my naked body isn’t even private anymore. I can cleverly disguise my love handles with clothing, but they’re certain to show up in the body scan. I don’t care if the guy operating the machine and seeing the scan of my chubby little body is hidden from my view. I should have the say over who sees me naked, and these machines strip me of that right.

Furthermore, I shouldn’t feel like I need to have a bikini wax before I fly on a plane for fear of what the scan checker might think. These scans also reveal the outlines of passengers’ undies. Now, really, do you want to feel like you have to go buy chic undies before you fly so the scan checker doesn’t make fun of you?

You can tell yourself that the person viewing your scan isn’t making fun of you, but you’re lying to yourself. If you were the scan checker, you’d laugh at a lot of those people. Be honest.

I, for one, certainly am not going to consent to violation of my personal body just so some guy checking scans can get a thrill and the U.S. government thinks I’m it’s puppy dog while the real terrorists are choosing the noninvasive alternative that will enable them to carry out their nefarious tasks.

So, in a couple of years, these body scanners will become passé after a few terrorists foil them. What “safety measure” will the government implement next? I’m guessing cavity searches. Are you prepared to consent to that?

I’ll continue to fly as long as I have the right to choose corporal privacy. When the government takes away that choice — and it will — I’ll take up travel by train. I hear it’s very Old World and charming, and I won’t have to worry about terrorists or perverted security checkers.

A Brief Letter to My Family

2010-05-28T10:10:00.002-05:00

Dear Family,

As I’m repainting the back hallway and the basement of my house, I have come to realize just how UGLY that green was. I mean, I’ve hated it for a couple of years now, but it was ugly way before then. As more and more of it is covered up, the remainder of it becomes increasingly vomit-inducing. As the Dutch Boy Key Lime Green gradually disappears, my soul feels a sense of peace and relief, and I wonder if perhaps my depression has been exacerbated by that god-awful color hanging on my walls all these years. The only good thing about that sickening color was that it was light enough to cover easily.

There’s a reason I keep you around, and it’s to tell me when I do something ugly and awful to my house. You have failed me. You allowed that horrific color to keep residence in my home for seven years. SEVEN YEARS! What is wrong with you people? Granted, I’m the one who chose and painted the color, but I must have been suffering a bout of temporary insanity because I now realize that no one in her right mind would have chosen that color. Not one of you said, “Hey, that’s a really awful color” or “Hmmm. I’m not sure I like that color. How about something a little less snot-colored?” And Sissy, now that I know you are part colorblind, I will never listen to you when you tell me a paint color is OK.

Shame on you, all of you. I hope you have learned your lesson. Honesty is the best policy when it comes to ugly paint jobs. Hopefully, next time you’ll do the right thing.

Your loving daughter/sister

Of Exhibitionists and Voyeurs

2010-05-19T22:37:00.001-05:00

Every few months Internet users are up in arms about their privacy on Facebook and social networking sites, and it happened again last week. Now, because of recent Facebook privacy issues, a group of people is pissed off and wants others to ditch Facebook on May 31. It was the same way when MySpace was the dominant social networking site. Social media fans want privacy, and they become distraught and angry when they find out they’re not getting it.

But the problem isn’t that Facebook and other social media sites don’t provide enough privacy. The problem is that people expect privacy on the Internet because they don’t want to take responsibility for what they post on websites.

It’s time to stop bashing online networking sites and reconsider what you’re posting on Facebook, Twitter and other sites. The Internet is not inherently secure — never has been. Only through the genius of software and technology engineers do we have (mostly) secure sites where we can shop without the pervasive fear of having our credit card numbers or identities stolen. And even now, nothing’s 100 percent secure on the Internet.

Banks and online stores have had to invest money to make and keep their sites secure, and federal and international mandates and regulations are in place to protect online consumers and banking customers. These businesses obtain a return on their investment in security by gaining customers who know their sites can be trusted.

But social media is free. You’re not a customer of Facebook or Twitter; you’re a user. You can’t expect these sites to put much money into protecting your privacy when you’re using their services for free. And the bottom line is, no one is forcing you to use social networking sites. It’s your choice.

The very nature of the Internet is exhibitionist. You wouldn’t take off your clothes in a bar if you didn’t want people to look, and you wouldn’t post on social networking sites, blogs or message boards if you didn’t want people to read it. Now, think how absurd it would be if you stripped in a bar full of people and said that only a certain group could watch. It’s the same way with the Internet. You can try to dictate who watches you strip, but everyone is going to peek. This is because while one part of every one of us is an exhibitionist to some degree, another part of every one of us is a voyeur to some degree.

People think they can demand privacy on the Internet because they are using the Internet in the privacy of their homes. But rather than thinking of the Internet as something as private as your home, you must think of it as something very public and unsecure that you are allowing inside your home.

Nothing is completely secure over the Internet, and hackers prove that every day. As an Internet application, e-mail isn’t secure, either, which is why many years ago I made a rule for myself that I have always followed: Never send something over e-mail that I wouldn’t want everyone in the world to read. If you’d be utterly humiliated to discover that your mother or your boss read any of your e-mails, then perhaps you should think twice before sending them. Some things really are better said over the telephone. The written word has a way of sticking around, even after you’ve deleted the message or post.

When I started using social media, I made the same rule: Never post something that I wouldn’t want the world, my mother and my boss to read. To add a layer of protection against discriminating HR departments when I’m job-hunting, I also use a pseudonym for my social media activity, as some people might hold my opinions against me. My friends know who I am, but none of my social media activity is revealed if you Google my real name. Also, there are just some people whom I never care to talk to again, so I’m not going to make it easy for them to find me.

Furthermore, rather than piss and moan about how unsecure social networking sites are, I set my profiles so that they allow anyone access to my info. Sound stupid? Not if you’re careful about what personal information you post. Why should I post my telephone number or address on my Facebook profile when my friends and family already have them? I don’t post any information that I would be upset if a stalker found. The e-mail address I post is used for social media only, and any interests or personal information that I post are things that I don’t care who knows about me.

So, rather than bitching about the privacy and security of social networking sites, we all need to take responsibility for our own actions. If you use your real name on social networking sites, then you must exert some caution when posting on those sites. If you want to post your honest opinions and thoughts on the Internet, go for it, but be conservative with the personal information you divulge.

New Career Opportunity: Balloon Bender

2010-05-15T13:47:00.005-05:00

Last night, I went to dinner at Cheeseburger in Paradise with my mom and Sissy, and I discovered a career opportunity I had never considered. The restaurant employs a balloon bender, who visits each table, crafting charming creatures from long, skinny balloons. The balloon bender worked for tips, so I gave her $5 to model a two-color butterfly for me and a ladybug wrist balloon for my mom. As she was making small talk and twisting balloons, I said, “You have the best job in the place.” She smiled and said, “I really do. I could never be a server. I’m not nice enough.”

This made me laugh, because even though I was a server and bartender for many years, I really wasn’t nice enough to be working in those professions, either. I’m pretty sure that the reason I drank and consumed various other substances in my youth was because I hated the work. It contrasted with the person I am so much. I’m not a people person, and I tend to treat people the way they treat me. Which was good for a small proportion of restaurant patrons. But if someone was cold and rude to me, well, you can figure out why I sometimes received customer complaints.

But balloon bender! Now, that’s fabulous job! Who can be mean or rude to you when you’re just trying to spread a little inflatable cheer while they enjoy their meal? The rudest someone could be to you is to decline your balloon-twisting services, and in that case, you’d just move on to the next table.

Cheeseburger in Paradise’s balloon bender wore a large badge that said, “I work for tips,” letting customers know that they were expected to cough up some dough to pay the nice lady. I watched in mesmerized fascination as she molded, modeled and twisted balloons into parrots, monkeys, insects, dogs and more. And all I could think was, I want her job.

Now, when I get one of these ideas, I think it through to the end. I’m not happy with just a passing thought of, Oh, that’s something I’d like to do. I actually imagine whether it's something I could do. Sissy is the same way, and together we have developed several million-dollar ideas for businesses. I mean, we’ve had in-depth discussions and come up with entire business plans for these businesses. Unfortunately, none of our ideas have every moved beyond the business plan.

So, when I started thinking about becoming a balloon bender, I thought how I could visit restaurants, stand in the Old Market on the weekends and offer my services (for a fee) to corporations. Whose morale wouldn’t improve with a colorful, adorable balloon adorning their blah cubicles? And think how much money you could make. Our balloon bender was at our table fewer than five minutes and made $5.

Sissy, however, was more interested in learning how to twist a brown balloon into a pile of poo and crafting it into a hat for the people at her job who piss her off, making them, literally, into shitheads.

I, however, think that becoming a balloon bender would be an opportunity to use my creativity for good and bring a little cheer to the world. I know, where is this sun-shininess coming from?

Alas, I am tied to my certain lifestyle and dedicated to paying bills and acting responsibly, so I will never become a professional balloon bender. Nevertheless, it looks like fun, and I might just take it up as a hobby.

Won't Someone Please Make Her Go Away?

2010-05-12T22:20:00.006-05:00

Sarah Palin, that is. I really, really wish she would just drop off the face of the Earth. Or, at the very least, out of the public eye. And now, I find out she gets another book deal.

I know many people who actually are talented writers but haven’t yet gotten book deals. Nevertheless, Sarah Palin, who is an embarrassment to the state of Alaska and the Republican party (although the Republicans haven’t figured this out yet), gets not one but two book deals. Her first book, Going Rogue, sold an unbelievable 2 million copies.

This, the woman who stumbled and faltered at standard questions from reporters during the last election. The woman who seriously needs an American history course, followed by a world history course. The one who has no idea what “foreign affairs” means. Two million people read this idiot’s book?

Her publisher, Harper Collins, will print a first run of 1 million copies of America by Heart, Palin’s next book, which will be “a tribute to American values” inspired by her belief in “the importance of family, faith and patriotism.” The new book will include “selections from classic and contemporary readings that have moved her.” Yippee. I can’t begin to imagine what inspires a mental midget like Palin.

Hot on the heels of this disappointing announcement, we learn that Palin demonstrated exactly what kind of person she is by telling Bill O’Reilly that the United States is a Christian nation, founded on Christian principles and the Ten Commandments. Of our nation’s founding documents, Palin said, “They’re quite clear — that we would create law based on the God of the Bible and the Ten Commandments.”

So now the small-minded Palin wants this country to “return” to it’s Christian roots. Here’s evidence of the gaps in Palin’s history lessons: One of the founding principles of this country was religious freedom. Remember how the Protestants left England and came here to escape the Church of England? Oh, she missed class that day. Must have been beauty queen training. And I’d like to ask Miss Wink-and-Smile this: What about the millions of non-Christians in the United States? We’re supposed to give up our freedom of — or from — religion and live by Christian laws?

How about the fact that the Bible is more than 2,000 years old and most likely highly inaccurate, if it can even be considered factual at all? According to Palin, we’re all supposed to sacrifice our intelligence and logic and blindly follow Christian beliefs. Evidently Palin hasn’t heard of another ideal of the United States: separation of church and state. That means that religion isn’t supposed to dictate our laws.

Every time Palin is in the news I grow increasingly more appalled that anyone thinks this dunce is worthy of political worship. In fact, I think anyone who believes that Palin has good ideas or would be a good leader for the GOP or this nation should be publicly shamed.

I also feel the need to remind you, dear readers, that Palin dumped her home state, resigning as governor for “personal reasons” — which actually seems to mean that she resigned to sell books and make a couple of million dollars at appearances and signings. What kind of person dumps her state and leaves its people without a governor? Certainly not one who has presidential hopes.

We need presidents who are tough and can weather whatever the world throws at us — not presidents who abandon their post as soon as someone says something nasty about them. What I find really sad about Sarah Palin is that her stupidity actually makes George W. Bush look pretty good.

Two Guns Don't Make a Right

2010-05-05T22:41:00.012-05:00

I’m not a fan of guns. I’ll just go ahead and state that. I know I’m mostly a Constitutionalist, but I just don’t like guns. The reason I don’t like guns is because they enable one person to kill another person. And death is permanent.

I live in an area of Omaha that I call the “edge of the ghetto.” My neighborhood isn’t the “bad” part of town, which is north Omaha, but it’s awfully close to that area. Cross a few key streets and you’re there. I live in an area that is diverse, with down-to-earth people. Sometimes I don’t like some of the diversity (trashy people scattered here and there), but for the most part, I love it. That’s why I’ve lived here for 10 years.

Lately, however, the ghetto is edging ever-closer to my happy little diverse neighborhood. Gang activity has been high over the last six months, and we have a new incident nearly every day. I don’t associate with gang members, so I suppose I’m relatively safe. Until a stray bullet enters my house or hits me.

The high gang activity and all of the shootings have put everyone in this part of town on edge. And proof of that is an incident that happened in the last couple of weeks.

On the evening of April 26, two men entered a Walgreens in my neighborhood, one that I pass every day and where I frequently shop. One of the young men, Marquail Thomas, 18, carried a sawed-off shotgun, which he pointed at customers and yelled, “Nobody fucking move!”

Harry James McCullough, 32, a former security guard and one of the customers in the store, carried a licensed gun in the waistband of his pants. He pulled the gun and shot Thomas. Thomas died at the scene, and McCullough restrained Thomas’s partner, Angelo Douglas, 17, until police arrived. The getaway driver, 15-year-old Jauvier Perkins was arrested a couple of days later. Douglas and Perkins were gang members.

Many people in Omaha have called McCullough a hero. They are tired of the gang violence and say that we need more people like him to help stop the violence in north Omaha and the surrounding area. They believe that if these thugs think they might get shot themselves, then maybe they won’t be so quick to go shooting other people.

I don’t necessarily disagree, but I also don’t believe that two guns make a right. I realize that McCullough had little time to react, that he followed his best judgment. But I don’t think that it was necessary for Thomas to die.

Here’s my problem with this whole situation: McCullough fired eight shots that night. Four of them hit Thomas. Four. Wouldn’t one shot that hit the kid have been enough? Couldn’t McCullough have wounded Thomas, taken the sawed-off shotgun from him and then restrained Douglas? Why was it necessary to fire eight shots, and continue to shoot after he shot the kid once? Either McCullough is a lousy shot, or he’s gun-happy and wasn’t going to be satisfied until he killed Thomas.

This is why I’m such a big fan of stun guns. You can disable an assailant so you can disarm him, but you won’t kill him. A stun gun will make him roll around on the ground and, at the worst, crap his pants.

As it turned out, Thomas’s shotgun wasn’t loaded. But I suppose that’s the risk you take when you threaten violence against people and rob a store. Also, McCullough was initially cited by police because he didn’t have a concealed weapons permit and pulled the gun from his waistband rather than carrying it in a holster, where it would be visible. McCullough’s attorney, James Martin Davis, however, succeeded in getting that charge dropped. Which is fine. I don’t think splitting hairs about a concealed weapon is pertinent to this story.

What does worry me, though, is that gun enthusiasts will begin to consider themselves vigilantes, which will undoubtedly result in more deaths, in addition to those of gang members killing each other. I’m not sure what the answer is, but killing each other with guns certainly isn’t it.

My, Your Balls Are Big

2010-05-02T20:06:00.005-05:00

Last week, I was driving behind a giant, full-size pickup truck when I noticed that the owner had proudly given his vehicle a set of balls.

These tacky novelties are sold under the brand names Bulls Balls or Big Boy Nuts, and they’re also known as Truck Balls, Truck Nutz, Biker Nutz and various other names. They’re available in a dazzling array of colors for between $27 and $40 plus shipping; however, if you want the chrome-and-brass balls, you’ll pay $50 plus shipping for those dandies. The tagline for these crass ornaments: Made To Swing.

Big testicles swinging from the back of oversized gas-guzzling vehicles incite irritation in me. If you don’t live in an area populated with rednecks, Husker fans, and super-sized trucks and SUVs, then you may not have had the displeasure of witnessing this spectacle on the road.

What, exactly, is the statement these drivers are trying to make? My truck has balls? My truck’s a boy? My truck can impregnate your car?

I usually figure the bigger the vehicle the smaller the manhood of the man driving it. Obviously he’s trying to overcompensate for something, and as men are so intimately tied to their penises, those with giant vehicles must be trying to compensate for tiny winkies.

Thus, if your vehicle has big balls hanging from it, I assume you are trying to make up for the fact that you have tiny balls. If you hang balls from a huge SUV or truck, then I must assume that you have a small penis and small balls. Sucks to be you in the locker room.

     Hank: “Omigod! Look at Pete’s tiny penis! It’s so SMALL!”
     Pete: “But I drive a giant truck!”
     Al: “Aw, dude, check out his tiny balls! They’re little marbles!”
     Pete: “But my giant truck has big balls!”

     And everyone except Pete laughs until they cry. The end.

What compels people to “decorate” their cars with anything, let alone something like big testicles?

Before you agree with me because you think great big truck nuts are grody, consider whether you are guilty of decorating your own car. Are you one of the people (usually old ladies) I see every day with a row of stupid-ass stuffed animals sitting on the ledge of your rear window? Because if you are, then you’re dumb. Stuffed animals? What is that supposed to convey to passers-by? That you’re cute and cuddly? That you never quite grew up? That you can’t ever be alone and need to tote around your make-believe friends in your car?

I also don’t care how many stick figure kids you have or how many stick-figure pets are in your family. These decals on the back windows of cars make me gag a little. I always see the mommy and daddy, a few kids, and a few pets.

If I have to look at these idiotic emblems, then I want to see some reality mixed in there. I want to see a stick-figure mommy with a few stick-figure kids on the left side of the window and a stick-figure daddy way over on the right side. I want to see a stick-figure daddy with both of the mommies of his children — like daddy in the middle with mommy No. 1 and her kids on the left and mommy No. 2 and her kids on the right. Or, if you’re symbolizing the family across the street from my house, there would be a mommy, two kids, a cat and a long string of boyfriends. Actually, mommy’s stick-figure boyfriends should take up the rest of the window’s length. On a Hummer.

Frankly, I'm tempted to create my own version of these stickers with a stick-figure mommy and three stick-figure cats to represent my family. I’m sure that would actually earn some giggles from other drivers.

(Disclaimer: I have a bright pink rubber ball on my car’s antenna, but that is only so I can find my tiny car in a parking lot of giant, ball-bearing SUVs and trucks, as my car was made before the standardization of key fobs that make your car beep at you.)

Now, That's the Spirit!

2010-04-08T20:19:00.006-05:00

Has anyone even heard of Spirit Airlines? Just thought I’d ask, because I’d never heard of this airline until it suddenly rose in popularity yesterday when it announced that it would begin charging up to $45 for carry-on luggage in August. The airline’s head honchos may have spirit, but they’ve lost their souls.

Really? Forty-five dollars? What are they thinking? Fuel prices are stable — much lower than they were when the other airlines started charging about $25 for checked luggage as a “fuel surcharge.”

It’s all a load of horseshit in my book. The most popular airlines started charging their fuel surcharges, they said, to compensate for high fuel costs a few years ago. Yet, funny thing, those charges never disappeared when fuel prices stabilized and lowered. Passengers are still stuck paying those inflated rates. Those dirty airline bastards.

Ever noticed how surcharges and taxes — like Omaha’s wheel tax, for example — that are supposed to be temporary never seem to disappear? Remember when Big Tobacco was sued and said that cigarette prices would increase for 10 years to cover the costs of the lawsuits and then go back to normal? I’ve never seen that happen, either, and it’s been far more than 10 years.

Frankly, I’m tired of everyone tapping my pocketbook whenever they think they can make an easy buck. You know that if Spirit Airlines — no matter how rinky-dink its operation — starts charging for carry-on luggage, every other airline will follow. Why? Because they can. Because we’re at their mercy for air travel.

You know, the other airlines could have made nice with passengers by simply eliminating the “fuel surcharge” and hiking ticket prices. Even if you travel regularly and actually noticed the price hike, you would feel better about it than about paying $25 just to check a suitcase. Likewise, rather than announce a carry-on luggage surcharge, Spirit should have jus raised its ticket prices $45. Had it done that, bloggers and news sources wouldn’t have given the airline such bad press over the last two days. Unless Spirit still believes that any publicity is good publicity. That’s true in some cases but not this one.

It’s ridiculous taxes and surcharges that are attracting people to join the Tea Party. I know the Tea Party thinks of itself as a legitimate political party, but I just can’t help but think of its members as anything but ruffians with narrow minds. Sure, they’re tired of being taxed to death. We all are. But I have serious doubts about whether the Tea Party will actually gain any momentum. Of course, if everyone keeps trying to take every last cent that we working Americans make, then perhaps the Tea Party has a chance. And I’m not sure why, but that kind of scares me.

Yes, everyone is hurting for money these days: the local, state and federal governments; businesses; and the working man and woman. It’s called a fucking recession, people. Evidently, though, government and businesses like Spirit think it’s a good plan to take from the little people to finance their own comfort.

I have never flown Spirit Airlines, and I never will because in my mind, that company is out to screw its hardworking customers. And that’s the kind of publicity that ruins companies.

Why I Won’t Tune In to Mark Levin

2010-04-05T19:41:00.003-05:00

I can no longer listen to Mark Levin’s radio talk show. I know it seems contradictory that a Libertarian would listen to these conservative talk show hosts anyway, but there’s nothing else on the radio stations here. I’d love to find a liberal radio talk show.

So I am relegated to listening to the rants of conservatives. Well, that or bad music. Listening to conservatives has actually helped me develop my political views. Whether you agree or disagree with someone, you are forming your own opinions. And it’s always good to know what every side is up to.

So, when Tom Becka’s show ends early during my drive home because the crappy sports show after it barges in on my radio time with a sensible, Libertarian host, I have been turning the station to Mark Levin. At first Levin’s tyrannical rants made me laugh. I mean, anyone who can take the man seriously is an idiot. He’s so very far right that no liberal can ever do anything right. With hosts like Levin, it’s black or white, conservative or liberal, Republican or Democrat. Unfortunately, people like Levin have failed to recognize that the world is not made up of black and white but rather of shades of gray.

That’s fine. I’m open-minded. I can listen to tirades like Levin’s nightly rant and laugh them off. But when those tirades slip into childishness and name-calling, then you’ve lost me as a listener.

Levin lost me on a recent evening when, singing the praises of Sarah Palin, Michelle Malkin and other conservative female pundits, he commented about how attractive the Republicans’ women are. OK. Fine. He’s a pig But he followed that comment with something to the tune of, “And have you seen the other side? Their politicians are fat and ugly, with lopsided eyes and bad hair.” Levin specifically cited Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi, comparing them to his Republican wank-off material, Palin and Malkin.

Let’s look at Sarah Palin. If she proved anything during the 2008 election, it was that she is a dunce. Sure, she’s attractive, being a former beauty queen and all, but she’s stupid. Hillary Clinton, on the other hand, is merely average-looking. But that woman is intelligent, she knows government — U.S. and world government — and she and her ideas have been greatly successful. No, you don’t want to see her in a bikini displayed on posters on the walls of college boys, but do you really want to see any of your politicians like that? Does that give them the respect they are trying to win to run our country? And by the way, does anyone want to see Mark Levin in a Speedo?

If Levin and other conservatives want to criticize liberal viewpoints and decisions, then that is their right. If they can do it intelligently, fine. But to sit there and call your opponents ugly, well, that’s no better than a 7-year-old calling another kid dickweed or fatso on the playground. Shame on you, Mark Levin — and shame on your listeners for accepting childish, immature blather rather than demanding intelligent political commentary.

Teachers Should Be Accountable for Students' Education

2010-03-28T22:46:00.006-05:00

Teachers and administrators are up in arms at the possibility that teachers may soon receive merit pay according to how well their students perform. They contend that kids who don’t care about grades or school will be able to determine a teacher's future.

But if teachers are inspiring and motivating their students, as they should, then they have nothing to worry about. No Child Left Behind was one of the worst initiatives in American education, and it’s time this country does something to improve student performance. All NCLB accomplished was to ensure that American students fall behind students in the rest of the world.

Along with NCLB, we have schools that have made it policy not to fail students or hold them back when they don’t perform at their grade level. If students fail to complete a report or assignment on time, it’s OK; they can turn it in any time before the end of the year, and they’ll receive full credit for it. In fact, if students don't do anything, many schools still give them a 50 percent. Tell me, in what job in the real world can an employee do nothing and miss deadlines yet still keep his or her job? Schools should be preparing students for the real world, and at this rate, I don’t want to work with the kind of people our schools are turning out.

NCLB is completely unrealistic. Sure, those students look good on paper, but they’re not learning the things they should be, and they’re not performing in a way that will prepare them for the real world. These schools that make their students look good on paper are as bad as people who purchase a degree from a diploma mill — and that’s an offense for which employees can be fired or forced to resign. One day, I’m going to have to work with or even for these lazy bastards.

Education in the United States has lagged behind that of other countries for many years, and now we’ve hit an all-time low. Students in Europe, China, Japan and other countries go through school learning their native language, English and perhaps a third language. We’re lucky if our own students can construct a complete sentence in English. Tremendous value is placed on education in Asia, and those students far surpass American students — and they’ll continue to do so unless we start valuing education in this country.

Frankly, I think making teachers responsible for students’ performance is a good step. Granted, appreciation for learning and education starts in the home, and many of today’s parents are so desperate to ensure that their children’s feelings aren’t hurt or that their children are seen as unique and special snowflakes (what I call Snowflake Syndrome) that they are concentrating on things other than the value of education. For example, in recent years, schools have caved in to parents’ demands, going so far as to eliminate valedictorian and salutatorian honors, refusing to hold kids back when they should, and taking all power away from schools.

Perhaps if teachers are responsible for student performance, schools will reclaim the power and respect they once had. Parents, your children are not unique and special snowflakes. They should be expected to turn in reports and assignments, and if they don’t, then their grades should certainly suffer. They should be held back a grade if they are not academically or emotionally ready for the next grade. And they should be able to pass standardized tests in line with those given to students in other countries.

My fear is what we’re in for in the future. If the United States turns out a bunch of dummies for enough years, we’re going to fall noticeably behind the rest of the world in everything else. Our employees will be lazy and stupid, and that can’t possibly bring anything good for this country. If you were a CEO, would you hire lazy, stupid people, or would you look to people in other parts of the world who are intelligent, well-educated and hardworking?

So, yes, I think making teachers responsible for their students’ education is necessary. At the same time, schools need to stop letting parents call the shots. It’s high time the United States focuses on educating its children and preparing them for the real world before the rest of the world surpasses us so far that we can’t possibly compete.

WGN’s Ban Is a Step Forward for Journalism

2010-03-14T23:10:00.007-05:00

WGN-AM (720) radio received harsh criticism last week when CEO Randy Michaels issued a ban on 119 words and phrases. The words and phrases on the list are never, ever to be used by anchors or reporters on the news/talk radio station.

It might seem petty to some, but when you actually look at the list, you find clichés, vague language, redundancies and inaccurate speech.

Even though words like “flee,” “seek” and “pedestrian” are words that add color to a news report, I think WGN-AM is trying to get back to the basics of journalism. And that’s not a bad thing.

Back in the old days of journalism, before the news became pure entertainment and celebrities and athletes were the hottest news topic, journalism was supposed to be objective, using plain language to inform the public about what was happening. In fact, back in those days, a news story was supposed to be written at an eighth-grade level. That’s right — no flowery words, just plain, easy language that everyone could understand.

Journalists were also taught to remain objective. In fact, this was always one of the main tenets of journalism. Objectivity. Allow the readers, or listeners, as they may be, to learn the information and form their own opinions.

Some of the words on WGN-AM’s list strip the objectivity from a news story, subtly injecting the reporter’s opinion or estimation into the story. For example, “flee,” suggests that someone ran away to escape danger. So, consider what is inferred if a criminal “flees” from police. “Laud” means praise, but it’s a high form of praise — and is it really the journalist’s job to tell you the degree of praise, or should you be able to use the facts to determine that yourself? When reporters say that a situation “went terribly wrong,” you should ask, “terribly wrong according to whom?” That, my friends, is a matter of opinion. So is whether something is “good” or “bad” news. You can use the “according to whom” question on several items on the list: senseless murder, untimely death, no brainer and many more.

Let’s look at some of the clichés that WGN-AM attacked on its list: after the break, as expected, best-kept secret (this one fits both the previous non-objective list and the cliché list), campaign trail, clash with police, death toll, giving 110 percent, going forward, icon, in a surprise move, in other news, killing spree, manhunt, perfect storm, shots rang out, the fact of the matter, time for a break, touch base, under siege, underwent surgery, we’ll be right back, lend a helping hand. These aren’t your classic clichés, but they have become the clichés of broadcast news. If you listen to the news for half an hour, you’ll hear several of these. And that makes them tired, overused and trite. They’re not the hallmark of any good writing, let alone news writing.

How about the redundancies and oxymorons that WGN-AM wants to eliminate? I’m all for this, and I wish Omaha broadcast news reporters would take a look at this list: 5 a.m. in the morning, area residents, at this point in time, close proximity, complete surprise, completely (any word), definitely possible, fatal death, medical hospital and sketchy details.

Then we have the words that make me wonder why in the world broadcasters started using them in the first place: bare naked, mispronunciations of “double-you” and “hundred,” mispronunciations of Iraq and Iran, informed sources say (find your sources and identify them), killing spree, mother of all (anything), shower activity, sources say (who are those sources?), stay tuned, to be fair (journalists are supposed to be fair and objective), torrential rain, white stuff, and you folks.

When I read the list of banned words and phrases, I realized that I could make a logical case against every one of them.

So, while some are criticizing Michaels for issuing a petty list when he ought to be working on something more important, like running the company, he might be starting to revamp the company from the ground up starting with the reporting. That, after all, is what earns the station listeners, to which advertisers pay for access. Maybe Michaels isn’t off his rocker; maybe he sees objective reporting without all of the colorful clichés that plague today’s newscasts as something that listeners will appreciate.

Frankly, it’s time journalists get back to basics. It’s time the definition of news switches from what celebrity romance is rumored to be occurring to what is happening in our cities and nation. I’ve been hoping for many years that journalism would undergo a major overhaul. Maybe WGN-AM’s list of banned words and phrases is the start.

Tiger Woods Sheds Light on a Bigger Problem

2010-03-07T21:56:00.005-06:00

Tiger Woods’ public apology a couple of weeks ago got me thinking. Not whether or not he was sincere in his apology, but why so many people cared whether he was sincere. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the Tiger Woods scandal epitomizes why I hate sports.

I do find sports boring and dull, a waste of time when there are so much more interesting things to be doing. But it’s sports’ fans bizarre obsession with their favorite games, teams and players that is really sickening.

Do golf fans love Woods because he’s a fantastic, gifted golfer, or do they love him because he’s faithful to his wife? I would think they adore and admire him for the way he plays the sport, so, going on this line of thinking, why does his personal life matter? Why does anyone care whether he cheats on his wife? That doesn’t affect the way he plays golf, nor does it make him any worse on the golf course.

The Tiger Woods ordeal has brought into focus the fact that Americans spend far too much time idolizing athletes and celebrities. Not only do we want athletes and movie stars who are great at their trade, but we also want them to be perfect in every way so that we can hoist them upon pedestals, worship them and pay them stupid amounts of money. Then, once we discover that they are merely humans making human mistakes and living human lives, we feel they’ve let us down. And if those nasty rumors turn out to be true, then we will snatch away our love for them as quickly as we gave it to them because they are no longer worthy of our worship.

But were they ever?

Why can’t Americans be happy simply admiring someone for their gifts and talents? No, we must become involved with every aspect of the person’s life. We pay paparazzi to invade celebrities’ homes and their lives and their families so we can feel like we know them, like they are close personal friends. We spend millions of dollars every year on celebrity rag magazines that strive to make us feel like we’re entitled to know everything about this celebrity or that athlete. But they aren’t our friends, and their lives aren’t our business.

After Christmas, Amazon.com gave me a free two-month subscription to Us Weekly, a notorious rag celebrity magazine. I do like to look at the pretty dresses that stars wear, and sure, the “Fashion Police” section is a guilty pleasure. But I could finish an issue of Us Weekly in 15 minutes flat because I didn’t read it. I’d flip through the photos and throw the magazine in the trash. By contrast, it takes me a full week (or more) to get through a copy of The Week and about three weeks for National Geographic. I noticed that Us Weekly has a section that shows stars acting “just like us.” That feature lasts two or three pages, so it must be popular. People want to see stars toting around their kids or shopping at Target, yet they get pissed off when stars really do act like real people and get fat, cheat or get a DUI.

A decade ago, Americans weren’t satisfied merely probing into the lives of celebrities and athletes. TV producers decided we should get an inside look at real people, too, and reality television dawned. But rather than giving insight into the lives of real people, reality TV sets up a stage — like 10 very different people from very different walks of life living together in one house — and transforms these regular Joes into mini-celebrities. Now, we’re obsessed with people who have earned our admiration on the big screen and on the field, as well those who are willing to do anything to experience their five minutes of fame on reality television.

It’s sick, really.

So when an athlete like Tiger Woods is found out to be a cheating scoundrel, we have idolized him so much, taught our children to be just like him, that we become angry with him for letting us down and teaching our children bad habits.

In reality, we should be teaching our children to value themselves, to strive to be their own best, to make their own dreams come true — not encouraging them to become just like Tiger Woods or the actor or singer of the moment.

Sure, Woods could be a young golfer’s inspiration, but he shouldn’t be a young golfer’s obsession. He should never have been idolized and worshipped. He should have always been viewed as a human with an extraordinary talent for golf. Whether he cheats on his wife should be looked at as just another human who fucked up. It never should have been made national news. I, who have absolutely no interest in sports or the lives of celebrities, should not know as much as I do about the Tiger Woods scandal merely through osmosis.

Something is wrong with people who obsess about celebrities and athletes rather than looking at their own lives and selves. To sit around and discuss celebrities as though you just talked to them on the phone, calling them by their first names and gossiping about the supposedly intimate details reported in trash magazines, is a sad existence. I wish people would put so much effort into improving themselves, teaching their children respect and responsibility, or improving the way they treat others.

Americans need to consider their obsession with athletes and celebrities and get a grip on reality. Hollywood isn’t reality. Rag celeb magazines aren’t news or journalism. Reality TV is garbage. And celebrities aren’t gods and goddesses worthy of worship. They are human. Some might deserve to be appreciated for their talents, but they also need to be allowed to make mistakes and live their lives in peace.

Tampons Will Never Inspire Me

2010-03-01T12:52:00.004-06:00

Why are feminine hygiene companies putting happy little inspirations on tampon wrappers? Now, not even my time in the bathroom is sacred, free from the garble of advertising. And I’ll tell you something else, the last thing I need when I’m crampy is Tampax or Playtex telling me to have a happy period or reach for my goals.

What is the point of this senseless messaging? Is it there to make me feel good about being a woman who has to tolerate cramps, moodiness and ick factor every month? Because, really, those stupid messages just make me want to throw the tampon across the room.

The companies that print these messages on their wrappers call them “mood-lifting messages.” Really? Because this little whit of so-called inspiration isn’t lifting my mood. Prozac and Vicodin lift my mood when I’m menstrual and crampy.

Several years ago a feminine hygiene company called Dittie started this trend. Its big selling point is that its tampons and pantiliners have “sassy messages” that are supposed to make you feel good. Well, these messages certainly don’t stop the cramps or bleeding, so I can tell you, they don’t make me feel good. What I need during “that time of the month” are prescription drugs, not cutesy little messages that piss me off.

Why Is Everyone Hating Obama?

2010-02-15T22:10:00.003-06:00

Americans, who were so proud when Barack Obama was elected such a short time ago, are in a frenzy, bashing the president left and right. We sure were patting ourselves on the back a year ago for electing the nation's first black president. And now the novelty has worn off for some of those people and they've become Obama haters.

I listen to a few Republican radio shows, mostly because there are so few Libertarian or liberal shows. I also think it’s smart to be well-versed in both sides of an issue. These conservative pundits really hate Obama. But I’ve noticed some fair-weathered Democrat haters, too.

So would these Dems be happier with the alternative? Mind you, that alternative would have meant Sarah “The Wanker’s Winker” Palin as vice president.

I certainly don’t agree with Obama on every issue. I think his socialized health care plan is an awful idea, doomed to make taxpayers suffer. I believe that Obama truly has good intentions and that he really believes his plan would be a great thing for Americans, but I also think he’s looking at it as an idealist rather than a realist.

I don’t like how the Democrats want to increase spending on public programs like welfare. This country has been supporting lazy people for far too long. It's time to put some of that money where it’s needed — like helping people who have been laid off and are desperately searching for work. I’d rather my tax money go to those people than to the lazy asses who keep squirting out more and more kids to increase their welfare income.

But just because I don’t agree with Obama’s health care reform or bleeding-heart public programs doesn’t mean I’m ready to kick him out of the White House.

I’m still basking in the sunlight of a president who is literate and intelligent after the eight years of his predecessor, who dropped the country's IQ considerably. Obama raised the country’s esteem threefold when he was elected, and that does count. I’m no longer ashamed to be an American.

Anyone who expects Obama to have worked miracles after only a year in office is unrealistic and unfair. There’s no way anyone could fix the state of this country in a year, and Obama made that quite clear during his campaign. In fact, he said it would take several years, and it could well take more than four years. So why does everyone expect him to be some sort of miracle worker now?

Obama is trying to improve the economy, and he indeed has brought relief for those caught in the excruciating web of unemployment. I can speak firsthand on this one. The COBRA subsidy, which was part of Obama’s economic stimulus and recovery plan, helped me tremendously when I was unemployed for 15 months. And in January, Obama, realizing that people are still losing jobs, extended that subsidy.

A couple of weeks ago, one of my friends lost his job. As a recent cancer survivor, the thought of losing his insurance terrified him. He hadn’t heard about the COBRA subsidy, and when I told him about it, I could hear him relax as the relief washed over him. He was still jobless for the moment, but at least he wouldn’t lose his insurance.

Sure, the economy still sucks, but it’s better than it was, and the alternative was economic and financial collapse followed by a great depression. Obama and his economic team pulled together and diverted a potentially dire situation.

Our country is far from perfect, but we’re doing better than we were a year ago; we are gradually improving and stabilizing. Baby steps, folks — that’s how these things work. If you think we should be enjoying the wealth of the Clinton years, then you need a reality check.

The Republicans love to yell and shout how Obama has accomplished nothing in the last year. Sure, he has. The housing market has stabilized. The credit and lending markets have stabilized. The economy hasn’t collapsed. The Credit Card Accountability, Responsibility and Disclosure Act of 2009 passed, protecting Americans from salivating credit card companies.

He is making progress in the Middle East, slowly but surely, with careful planning, and consideration for the consequences that the United States will suffer rather than his political image. He has set reasonable and realistic goals, and I believe he is taking the situation step by step.

I’m not saying that Obama is perfect. I’m just saying that rather than listen to the hype that he’s accomplished nothing in the last year, Americans need to take a step back and examine his presidency objectively. Obama has more successes under his belt than failures. It’s time for Americans to stop complaining and work together and with Obama to improve the condition of this country.

I'm a Nielsen Household!

2010-02-04T21:13:00.014-06:00

Most people are familiar with the Nielsen TV ratings, those mysterious ratings that determine which television shows become hits and which ones fail. I’ve always heard of Nielsen households, those that have the opportunity to decide that “Big Brother” and sports are great and that “Firefly” and “Pushing Daisies” sucked. Thus, I have always wanted to become a Nielsen household so I could voice my opinion about what makes good TV (“Firefly” and “Pushing Daisies”) and what makes lousy TV (“Big Brother” and sports) and sway the odds in favor of good, clever television shows.

Sometime December or so, I received a survey from Nielsen asking for information about my household — how many people reside in it, how many TVs I have, whether I have cable, etc. The company sent $2 for my time, and said that if I was selected as a Nielsen household I’d receive another $5. But I didn’t return my survey for the cash. I returned it so I could have my say on television programming.

Considering that there’s only one person in my house, no children, two TVs and basic (analog) cable, I expected Nielsen to drop my survey in the wastebasket like a hot potato. I must have fit some demographic they were looking for, though, because a couple weeks later I received a phone call that I was selected to become a Nielsen household. I have to admit, it was a very exciting day for me.

I had always imagined that Nielsen households had some sort of high-tech monitoring device connected to their televisions to track what the residents were watching and electronically send that information to Nielsen. I also imagined that Nielsen households had these magic boxes on their TVs for a year or longer.

I was totally off base about all of it. I received my packet from Nielsen the other day. Inside were “diaries” for each television, instructions about how to use the diaries and, as promised, $5. I don’t know if all Nielsen households start on the same day, but my designated start date is Feb. 4.

When you’re selected as a Nielsen household, you track each television’s activity for one week in the diaries. You assign one diary to each TV, and that diary stays with that TV for the week. Tracking a TV’s activity obviously involves recording what shows you watch, but it also includes recording when the TV is off, when it’s on but no one is listening or watching, and when you’re recording one show but watching another.

So here I embark on a week-long journey to show Nielsen just what good television programming is all about. There will be no sports in my diaries, no reality TV or obnoxious daytime talk shows. I will show my support for Conan O’Brien rather than Jay Leno. And I will not be watching the Super Bowl. And maybe, just maybe, some of the good shows I like on TV will survive and make an appearance next season.

Are Printed Books an Endangered Species?

2010-01-27T20:57:00.022-06:00

Apple’s announcement of the iPad made today a sad day for bibliophiles. Obviously the iPad is a brilliant new device; Apple’s products always are. But the iPad just brings us one step closer to the abolition of printed-and-bound books.

It started with the Amazon Kindle. Then came the Sony Reader, the Barnes & Noble Nook … With electronic reading devices, you can download a book and read it on the screen of the device. The iPad, basically an iPod on steroids, also offers this capability. Now you can digitize your music and your library.

The iPad goes a step beyond the Kindle, Nook and Reader, though, because its LED screen presents viewers with color images. The screen is also larger than those of the other readers, and it’s a multipurpose device — a reader, MP3 player and video player all in one. With prices starting at $499, the iPad is definitely worth the money.

But at what cost to the printed word? Today’s generations are already witnessing the demise of newspapers as readers turn to the Internet for their news. People want the latest news with up-to-the-minute information, so the Internet has taken over, leaving newspapers struggling to survive.

As a former journalist, I initially felt depressed about the demise of newspapers — until I realized that I am one of the guilty parties contributing to their extinction. I don’t have a newspaper subscription, and I find most of my news on the Internet because it’s convenient. Yes, I miss the smell of newspapers and the black ink smudged on my fingertips (not to mention the packing material and streak-free window washing), but evidently I don’t miss these things enough to stop using the Internet for my main news source.

I refuse, however, to contribute to the same vile eradication of printed books by endorsing or using those spiffy electronic readers, even if they are made by Apple. News is one thing, but reading for entertainment and enjoyment is another. There is no substitute for the look, feel and smell of a tangible book. Perhaps all of the books in my library will one day be considered “rare” merely because they are printed and bound.

With electronic reading devices, you don’t even own the “books” you download. You merely license them, and they can be removed from your device at any time. Conversely, once you buy an actual book, it’s yours. No one can come into your home and rip it from your bookshelves (unless we devolve into some kind of Fahrenheit 451 nightmare). It’s yours to read, re-read and treasure. You can emboss it with your personal “From the Library of …” stamp. It’s concrete, tangible and real — perhaps the only real thing about reading, which relies on your mind and imagination.

And really, I don’t want another screen in my life. I spend 12 hours a day staring at screens: computer screens, the screen on my BlackBerry, the screen on my iPod Touch, even the TV screen. The one thing I have left is books. And I won’t give them up to stare at another screen when all I want to do is become lost in a good story.

Why Won't Sarah Palin Go Away?

2010-01-20T20:57:00.000-06:00

Awesome. Sarah Palin gets a book published — proof that publishers will print any drivel these days — and now she’s all over the news again. She’s the Republican sweetheart, the winker from Wasilla, conservative wank-off material. And she could become the GOP candidate for president in 2012.

I’ve never understood the conservatives’ fixation with Palin. Did any of them actually listen to her during the 2008 presidential race? Were they not embarrassed at her lack of knowledge about our country’s history, current events or foreign relations? In fact, “embarrassed” is too soft of a word. Utter humiliation is what I felt for her. At first. Then I determined that she was just an uninformed idiot who had no business in politics.

I thought after she quit her job as governor of Alaska that the adoration for Palin would wane. That her fans would see her as a quitter who had no business in politics. What? Is she going to quit being president when the going gets tough, when a foreign nation criticizes her, when her poll numbers drop too low? Yeah, that’s certainly a person you want to see in the Oval Office.

I’m amazed that anyone still cares about Palin. If you’re looking for a strong woman in politics, a fearless leader who can weather the worst storms, a person who can stand tall against any crisis, then you ought to be looking at Hillary Clinton. But now that she’s become secretary of state, we don’t hear much from or about Clinton. Just feel-good news that she met with some country’s leader and made nice.

Sarah Palin can try to defend herself, claiming that the interviews, debates and every other time she opened her mouth during the 2008 presidential race were all unfair. That she was picked on. That she’s not really stupid. But I say the live newsreels speak for themselves.

So she has a kid with Down syndrome. Plenty of people have handicapped children. Plenty others have children with severe and disturbing emotional and behavioral disorders. That doesn’t make them ideal candidates for president. And let’s not forget that this die-hard proponent of abstinence-only education has a daughter who got knocked up at 17. So much for telling kids to abstain from sex. Yet this is still Palin’s standpoint.

So, she’s failed at parenthood, failed at serving as governor of Alaska and failed every public speaking engagement associated with the 2008 presidential race. Yet Republicans still think she’s a viable candidate for president?

I’m sure that on her book tour Palin is winking up a storm, attracting “down-home” people who use phrases like “you betcha” and drop their g’s (goin’, bein’, sayin’). And maybe those people want someone just like them for president. The intelligent populace, however, wants someone who can hold his or her own in a debate and who won’t quit the job of president because someone said something nasty about them. Oh, and it would be nice if the president knew something about American history.

It’s time Republicans set their sights on someone worthy of their endorsement. And it certainly isn’t Palin.

Winter Surprises Omaha Drivers — Again

2010-01-10T21:41:00.007-06:00

Every year, it snows in Nebraska. Because this winter has started off particularly snow-filled and icy, the roads are inundated with drivers who behave like this is the first time they’ve ever maneuvered a vehicle in snow.

I drive very cautiously and defensively in bad weather. I don’t take unnecessary risks, I always use my signal, I check and double check before I turn or change lanes. I quickly determine the right speed for my vehicle, not driving too slow or too fast. This is how I remain accident free during Nebraska winters.

I also listen to the traffic report, and if school is canceled and the roads are loaded with accidents, then I don’t drive. Sometimes the best thing to know about winter driving is when not to drive. I'd rather work from home or even lose a day of pay than risk my life or wreck my (only) car, which is paid off.

Unfortunately, even on the days when the roads are drivable, I find myself surrounded by amateurs who really should be much better at snow driving.

Myrtle the Turtle
These people are terrified to be behind the wheel when snow is on the ground. They tend to drive down the center of the road at impossibly slow speeds. True, you won’t usually find them fishtailing or spinning out, but they pose a hazard all their own because of their unnecessarily slow speed — and the fact that they are driving down the center of the road.

Me Have Big Truck, Four-Wheel Drive
These drivers believe that because they drive an enormous pickup truck or SUV with four-wheel drive, they can drive much too fast for road conditions. Sure, the extra weight of an SUV or a pickup with sandbags in back slightly reduces the risk of fishtailing, but ice is ice, moron. You’re going to go sliding no matter how-many-wheel-drive your vehicle is. Four-wheel drive helps when driving in snow, so you don’t get stuck, but it does nothing to prevent you from sliding across the icy road and crashing. And frankly, I snicker and mutter, “four-wheel drive is awesome,” as I pass by your crashed truck.

Got a Date; Can’t Be Late
These people usually are in compact cars or small sedan-style cars and driving much too fast for the road conditions. While the big truck/SUV drivers have an attitude of “Move it! I have four-wheel drive and can go fast,” these drivers just don’t think about the consequences of driving too fast on bad roads. They’ve got to get to work, and brushing all that snow off their cars slowed them down enough, and now they’re going to be late, so get out of their way!

Calling the boss to say they’re going to be a little late never crosses their minds. Instead, they try to drive their normal speed to work and ignore the fact that there are four inches of snow on the ground. Unfortunately, these drivers often end up becoming really late to work when they crash.

Extra Distance? What’s That?
When I’m driving in bad conditions, I put extra distance between my car and every car around me. I don’t drive beside another car. This is in case a car in front of me bites it, I have enough reaction time to avoid wiping out with it.

Omaha drivers have no concept of putting extra space between their vehicles and those around them. They’ll speed right past you. These drivers are always the ones that frighten me the most because they are usually driving too fast, which increases their odds of spinning or crashing, thereby increasing my odds of crashing into their dumb asses.

Dangerous road conditions are also the prime time to use that turn signal the vehicle manufacturer equipped your car with. Alas, Omaha drivers like their lane changes and turns to be a surprise. And then they act surprised when someone smashes into them.

Extra space and signals, folks. They’re good ideas.

I Need LOTS of Distance
These are probably the same drivers who have no concept of extra distance while driving, but they sure do when parking. Yes, the lines are covered up, but do you usually leave five feet between your car and the car beside you when you park? I don’t think so. But Omahans sure do when they park in a parking lot where the lines are hidden. This causes a shortage of parking spaces and just irks the hell out of me.

Awful parking skills in bad weather are a disease in Omaha. It’s amazing how many people haven’t figured out that the snowplow won’t come down their street if a bunch of cars are parked on the street. What really chaps my ass is the idiots in my own neighborhood, who have driveways but refuse to use them because they don't want to shovel them, so they park on the street. Not only do they park on the street, though, but they also decide they must park two or three feet from the curb. This effectively renders side streets one lane — and unplowed.

Who Needs Headlights?
Here’s a rule of the road that most Omahans don’t know: In fog or inclement weather, or when your windshield wipers are on, your headlights should be on. I know, it’s a tough one to figure out, and proof of this is that few Omaha drivers have figured it out. If you have trouble seeing an oncoming car, then guess what? Other cars have trouble seeing you, too. Your headlights aren’t just for lighting up the road at night. They’re also there so your vehicle is visible to others during rain, snow, fog, etc.

Omahans are terrible drivers in general, but they sure do shine particularly bright when the roads are covered in snow and ice.

To My Haters, Critics and Detractors

2009-12-22T22:16:00.002-06:00

It is often brought to my attention in this forum that my opinions are rude and unappreciated — usually by parents of the unruly children I criticize, or in the case of Generation Y, by members of that generation. I have my supporters — and I love them — but oftentimes the detractors speak louder.

To some people, discussion of politics, religion, abortion and evidently children’s behavior is considered taboo. To such people, these topics are impolite (unless you share their opinions), and sophisticated, polite people (who don’t share their opinions) should shut the hell up. These people claim to hate haters, yet they are first ones to turn hater on their blogs or in comments to me. Hypocrites.

I don’t care whether you agree with me on any given subject; I only care that you have formed your own informed, educated opinion. I created this blog with that intention. And although many of my detractors have likely missed it, I regularly conduct research for my columns rather than ranting off the top of my head in every one.

Because I have always tended to march to my own beat, many of my opinions fall outside the “norm.” I’m well read and intellectual, and I am an observer of the world around me. All of these are reasons and ways in which I find topics for commentary in this blog.

What would the world be like if people like me — whether conservative, liberal, radical or otherwise — failed to share their opinions or discuss so-called taboo subjects? For the answer, look to China, North Korea and other nations that censor the press and the public’s opinion. If I should keep my opinions to myself, then should political commentors, radio and TV talk show hosts, and, well, everyone keep quiet unless they have something shiny and happy to talk about? I'm not sure where you live, but it's certainly not a little place I like to call reality.

There are those who see the Internet merely as a source of entertainment and chatter, who waste their hours updating their Twitter pages and Facebook profiles with perky little messages about what they're doing right now (gag). What do these mindless activities add to their intellectualism? Nothing, although they must find some enrichment from them to become so obsessed. Yet these people will criticize thinking people, people who courageously put their opinions out for criticism and commentary, people who engage in intelligent discussion and want to know more about the world around them. I say, don’t waste your time reading carefully thought-out blog postings like mine. Go back to your mindless Twitter-Facebook existence.

I decided long ago not to live in fear, and that includes the fear of expressing my opinions. I’m not an asshole; I don’t try to convert anyone to my way of thinking. I don’t insist that my opinion is right and everyone else’s is wrong. I understand that opinions are formed based on a person’s upbringing, life experiences, influences, family, friends and other factors. In fact, when I find myself in conversations with aggressive people who insist their way of thinking is the only right way, I promptly end the discussion. These are generally closed-minded folks who can't back up their opinions with any facts; their argument is simply that they are right and you are wrong. That's not intellectually stimulating discussion, and I have no interest in someone trying to bully others to their way of thinking.

I enjoy people who encourage me to think in new ways, and I, in turn, try to encourage others to think in new and different ways. What’s the point of thinking if you can’t do it differently or see things from a myriad of perspectives?

First and foremost, I am a thinker. Second, I am a writer. Is it not the writer’s job to use her talent to discuss and comment on the world around her? Is a writer not respected for providing thought-provoking fodder for his audience? What a pity if great writers like Kurt Vonnegut, James Joyce, George Orwell, Aldous Huxley, John Steinbeck, D.H. Lawrence, William S. Burroughs and Harriet Beecher Stowe — all of whose classic writings have been banned or censored at some time — were silenced because someone didn’t like what they had to say.

I have come to terms with the fact that my opinions and this blog are bound to offend a lot of people. That’s not my intention, but those who are offended are often either guilty of the behavior I criticize or miss my intention altogether, so I don’t much care if they feel offended. And if you are indeed offended by this blog, no one said you had to read it. Just click that preset Facebook or Twitter tab on your Internet browser and go back to your silly, unintelligent, closed-minded little existence.

It’s Time the Government Steps in Concerning Outsourcing

2009-12-05T12:50:00.006-06:00

A friend of mine who was working at a large credit card processing company was laid off in July 2008. He’s currently working as a “consultant,” making far less than he was at the company where he worked for 20 years, and he receives no benefits. His job was eliminated because the company decided to outsource it to India, although he only learned this long after he and hundreds of other people were laid off.

His is not the only case where U.S. companies are trying to save money by outsourcing to other countries. The company I worked for, XYZ International, had laid off most of its IT team here in Omaha in August 2008 to outsource the jobs to India. The company was also outsourcing additional jobs to Romania.

I understand that economic times are tough, companies need to reduce costs and layoffs are necessary. But when the country’s combined unemployed/underemployed rate is more than 17 percent, it’s outrageous that companies outsource to other countries just to be able to pay corporate fat cats their bloated salaries. If some of those CEOs would take a temporary pay cut, they could save some American jobs rather than contributing to the casualties of economic recession.

I’m all for outsourcing when the country’s economy is strong and companies legitimately have difficulty finding qualified employees to fill jobs. Then they should certainly expand their searches to include outsourcing. But if a company is outsourcing to India, Romania or Eastern Block countries when its own country’s people are in a situation where there are six job seekers for every job opening, when people who want to work and are completely qualified for positions can't find them, then that company is only contributing to the economic crisis and unemployment rate.

During this time, President Obama needs to confront companies that are eliminating American jobs in favor of outsourcing, and he needs to address the fact that they are contributing to the recession. Although I generally disagree with the government stepping in where it doesn’t belong, I think this is a situation and a time when government intervention is necessary. The government should provide tax incentives for companies that fill job openings with American workers, even going so far as to penalize companies that choose to outsource during a recession.

Sound harsh? Well, it should. When I consider how long I was out of work and how so many people I know are still out of work after more than a year, it angers me that companies are giving our jobs to workers overseas just to save a buck. When I have friends who don’t know how they can provide food for their families — let alone have a joyful holiday season — it infuriates me that CEOs make millions of dollars a year with no concern for the people they are laying off or the lives they are plummeting into chaos.

During tough times, the people of this country should band together to help each other. And eliminating American jobs to outsource overseas is not helping your own country. It’s contributing to and prolonging the crisis.

Furthermore, companies that are contributing to the rate of underemployed workers by creating low-paying “consultant” positions in order to dodge paying full-time employees fair benefits should also be penalized, and those that create actual full-time positions with benefits should be given tax incentives. The government is freely tossing money wherever it thinks it might help the economy (Cash for Clunkers, etc.). It’s time to get a handle on this recession by helping the people who truly need it — the unemployed and underemployed — by targeting the offenders propagating the recession by forcing workers into these situations. It’s time to force CEOs to realize that their ballooned salaries are putting the lives of others in turmoil as they try to make an extra million this year through outsourcing.

Until the government steps in with an incentive/penalty program regarding outsourcing companies will continue their contribution to the recession, and the unemployed/underemployed rate will continue to grow.

Mind-Boggled by the Snuggie

2009-11-30T23:50:00.007-06:00

A little over a year ago, I saw a commercial for something called the Snuggie. I didn’t pay much attention to it. It looked dumb.

Then, while watching “The Late Show With Jimmy Fallon,” I laughed like a madwoman when Fallon came out on stage wearing a blue Snuggie. I laughed even harder when the camera panned to the audience, all cuddled up in Snuggies. I thought, “Aha! That’s the meaning of the Snuggie. It’s a joke.”

I was wrong. The Snuggie is a serious product, and to my amazement, it’s in high demand as shoppers bombard the stores for Christmas gifts. It seems that in every store I encounter old ladies grabbing some employee and asking where the Snuggies are. Now there are even knockoff Snuggies, just in case the regular price of $15 to $20 is too expensive for your taste.

When I first saw the Snuggie on TV, I was bewildered. Someone already invented that. It’s called a robe, and if you really want to, I suppose you could put it on backward just for kicks. Or you could wrap yourself in a blanket. Either way, the Snuggie makes no sense to me.

Marketed as “the blanket with sleeves,” the Snuggie is not only a silly idea, but it’s also horrendous-looking. In all the TV commercials and photos on the box, I have yet to see anyone look good in a Snuggie. That’s why it was so funny when Fallon walked out onstage in one. It’s so tacky.

Have you ever seen a Snuggie up close? It’s a piece of lightweight fleece with arms and flaps in the back. People sing its praises for keeping you and your feet warm, but I just wonder if your back gets cold. Oh, and if you have cold feet, they already make something for that, too; they’re called slippers, and they work really well.

When my mother and I were at the pet store about a month ago, I noticed that you can now buy a Snuggie for your dog. I’m not sure if these are genuine Snuggies or if they’re knockoffs, but they seem to come in the same colors as the real Snuggies, so you and your dog can match.

Perhaps the most horrifying thing I have seen in stores this year was the Nebraska Cornhuskers Snuggie at the Nebraska Furniture Mart. Now there’s a sight: some old grandma or grandpa curled up in their Huskers Snuggie.

Will someone please tell me the point of the Snuggie?

Omahans Love Phoenix

2009-11-20T23:02:00.006-06:00

Over Thanksgiving, my brother is moving his new girlfriend from Phoenix back to Omaha. Originally from Omaha, she moved to Phoenix two years ago, after her divorce. When I met her during Labor Day weekend, I asked her why Phoenix. She responded that it just seemed like a cool place to go.

I’ve lived in Omaha for 16 years, and there are a few things I will never understand about the people of this city. One is the rabid obsession with the Huskers football team. Another is their obsession with Phoenix and the idea that it’s so awesome.

I’ve been to Phoenix. I attended a journalism convention there in 1999 or 2000. In June. It sucked.

More aptly, it was hell on Earth. During the day, the temperatures soared to 117 and 119 degrees. At night it cooled down to 105. Oh, sure, it’s a dry heat. By the second day of my trip, I was ready to punch any person who made this claim. And I mean punch them in the face. Hot is fucking hot, folks, and 117 is hot no matter how you look at it, no matter how dry that heat is.

Furthermore, I was not enchanted by the Southwest. It’s dry, brown, ugly. I like richness in my landscape. Blue skies and water. Lush green plants, trees and lots of grass. Phoenix has none of this, although I did like the palm trees. The city itself is shiny and new, so I suppose if you like that, then you might find it attractive. I like rich history, old buildings, stunning architecture. There was nothing stunning about Phoenix except how sweaty and uncomfortable I was during those four days.

My brother’s girl is just one of dozens of Omaha natives I have known who think Phoenix is some kind of Eden. These people — even though they have never visited the city — hold Phoenix as some kind of urban idol, a place where they aspire to go. Hundreds of Omahans just pick up and move to Phoenix, certain that it will be the city of their dreams. It’s bizarre, really. Perhaps they are enthralled by the cactus landscaping in the medians or the rocky, sandy landscaping. Or the bright yellow pollen coating every surface during the fall. I haven’t been able to pinpoint what is so great about Phoenix.

Some of the Phoenix-lovers despise Nebraska’s cold winters and think, hey, Phoenix is warm — no snow! Why not move somewhere attractive, then, like Hawaii or New Orleans? Why ugly old Phoenix? Frankly, I couldn’t survive without the change of seasons. And I’ll take snow and freezing cold over hot weather any time. Maybe Omahans are fascinated by the chance to wear shorts every day of the year. I don’t know … I’m really just grasping at straws here.

Phoenix is so inundated with former Nebraskans that it has a Husker-themed bar, where my brother’s girl hung out when she lived there. That’s right, friends. A Husker bar in Phoenix.

I’m hoping that this will inspire some readers — especially Omahans — to submit comments explaining this obsession with Phoenix. Meanwhile, I’ll take beautiful, historic cities like Chicago, Boston and London over Phoenix any day.

From Unemployed to Underemployed

2009-11-09T22:22:00.003-06:00

It’s finally happened. After more than a year of unemployment, endless job interviews and countless résumés submitted, I’ve landed a job. One of my favorite freelance clients offered me a copywriting position. Now, copywriting can be dry work, especially when you’re writing the same types of copy day in and day out. But this is a marketing and advertising agency, and the projects are varied and fresh each day. It’s terrific experience, and, although it took me a couple weeks to get used to the open work environment and working around people again, I’ve settled in and am really enjoying being back to work.

My only worry with my new job is that it’s part time for the first few months. In all honestly, this was probably the best way for a change-resistant person to readapt to the working world, but it still leaves me with my huge COBRA insurance payment, no holiday pay and the need to freelance in order to make ends meet. Nevertheless, I’m relishing working in a creative environment, and the promise of a full-time position gives me hope for light at the end of the dark tunnel of unemployment.

It seems I am a part of a growing number of laid-off workers who has searched and searched for a job in their field only to find part-time work. I, like many in my situation, am happy to finally have found a job at all. In fact, many of my former co-workers laid off at the same time I was are still looking for jobs. Others have landed jobs they hate, which makes me feel doubly lucky to have found one that I enjoy. Still others have expanded their job searches to include positions outside their preferred fields. So truly, I am not complaining.

During this time, I have become aware of the growing number of underemployed people in this country, in addition to the still-increasing number of unemployed workers. Many are in situations like mine: They have accepted part-time positions in their fields with the hope of impressing their bosses and co-workers enough to earn full-time employment and get back on their feet.

Although the U.S. Labor Department states that the current unemployment rate is about 10 percent, that figure doesn’t take into consideration the underemployed. When you tally up the current unemployed workers and the underemployed, the number is more than 17 percent. That’s more than 17 percent of the American workforce still feeling the impact of the recession and trying to survive. So when the government tries to tell you in a few months that the unemployment rate is dropping, ask how many of those moved from unemployed to underemployed.

At the agency where I work, three of us are employed part time and waiting for full-time work. Now, it’s a pretty small workplace — 20 people. Thus, for the mathematically challenged, that’s three out of 20 people who are underemployed.

What I see happening as the United States recovers from this recession is that employers will find the need to hire new employees, but some are going to be cautious about hiring. Rather than offering full-time positions, many will offer more part-time positions so they can test the waters before jumping in to the fully staffed pool — just in case the recession isn’t truly ending. I can’t blame employers for that. But it makes a worrisome situation for those of us who are paying the high costs of COBRA and facing the end of COBRA benefits in a couple of months.

A dirtier tactic employers are using during the potential recession recovery is to hire employees as “consultants.” I have a friend who was laid off from a payments processing and technology company and has been working as a consultant for another company for well over a year. He’s thankful to have the income; however, he receives no insurance benefits, no sick leave, and no vacation pay or holiday pay. This, on top of taking a gross pay cut from his previous position.

The lack of benefits is not an unusual situation for consultants, but consultants also traditionally make huge salaries. Today, some companies are taking advantage of the lousy economy to create mediocre-paying “consultant” positions just to avoid giving paid benefits to candidates so desperate for a job that they’ll accept anything offered to them. These workers should also be considered underemployed, as they are still searching the job market for better-paying full-time positions that include benefits. As for the companies creating these “consultant” positions, if you are hiring people for full-time, permanent work, then you should give them benefits, not try to screw workers just because the lousy economy enables you to.

The downside of being underemployed, aside from the part-time pay and lack of benefits, is that the government offers no assistance for us. We no longer qualify for unemployment or any other type of assistance. We’re forced to become creative in how to make ends meet, or we have to work multiple jobs. The underemployed are stuck right in the middle: We’re not employed to the extent we should be, yet we’re no longer unemployed. True, underemployment is better than no employment, but we are yet another casualty of the current recession.

Wishful Thinking: Quality Writing in the Age of Social Media

2009-10-29T16:51:00.009-05:00

I recently finished Carrie Fisher’s memoir, Wishful Drinking. A good friend gave the book to me for my birthday in February, and I was hoping it would provide some interesting anecdotes from the sets of the Star Wars movies. There were a couple, but not really what I was hoping for. Still, overall, the book, which is based on Fisher's stand-up show, was a good read.

I’ve always been an avid reader. When I was a kid, my family moved around a lot, and books were my only friends. I loved that I could escape reality while losing myself in a good book. My love of reading didn’t wane during my teenage and early adult years, and I was always reading books.

Then, in my early 20s, I became an editor, and reading was a huge part of my job every day. I found myself reading fewer books and more magazines. A big reason for this was that my eye became so trained to edit while reading that I found it impossible to read without subconsciously editing. Punctuations and misspellings distracted me. I would note the spelling of unfamiliar words and look up their meanings. And poorly constructed sentences could preoccupy me pages later. In short, reading became work.

I (mostly) overcame this after a couple years, once again becoming able to turn to reading as my favorite form of escapism. I began building my library again, and now I read as much as did during summer breaks from school.

Nevertheless, I still notice improper grammar, punctuation and spelling. For the most part, it doesn’t distract or preoccupy me while reading a book. Wishful Drinking, however, was the exception.

Evidently, Carrie Fisher and Simon & Schuster need a good editor — and it just so happens I am looking for a permanent full-time job. This book was so horribly edited that I actually found the inspiration to blog about it. I understand that it’s based on Fisher’s one-woman show, but, come on — that’s no excuse for publishing what would barely pass for a galley copy.

Where should I start? First, there’s the far too conversational, informal tone, even for a memoir. This is what an editor should first have noticed and improved. There are times when the book lapses into dullness because pieces should have been cut or tightened. It’s not a long book — only 163 pages, including the author’s note, acknowledgements and photo identifications — and it should have been at least five pages shorter.

Punctuation is another problem of this book. As I’ve discussed before, parentheses are jarring to a reader’s eyes. They often cause an unnecessary long pause when the writer really intends a brief pause that leads the reader to the next part of the sentence. Wishful Drinking overuses parentheses more than any book I’ve ever read. In fact, just randomly flipping through it, I can’t find a two-page spread with fewer than one set of parentheses, and it becomes common to see two and three sets of them. An editor should have noted the overuse of parentheses and instructed Fisher to rework the copy so that those parenthetical ideas flowed smoother or became independent sentences.

The most annoying thing about Wishful Drinking, however, is the egregious use of exclamation points. Everywhere you look there are exclamation points. Let me be clear: Exclamation points have a proper usage; they are to be used when you would shout! or yell! the statement. Not when you’re trying to be witty or sarcastic, which Fisher is. Unless Fisher’s one-woman show is full of shouting and yelling, which may be. I haven’t seen it.

I can’t fathom that an editor would allow hundreds of exclamation points in a 163-page book, which led me to the conclusion that the book simply was published unedited, doing a disservice to Fisher and a discredit to Simon & Schuster.

I can only wonder if the publishing world has succumbed to the poor grammar propagated by today’s obsession with social media. As a grammarian and lover of language, I am heartbroken by the crumbling of proper spelling, grammar and punctuation that has accompanied text messaging, Twitter and other newfangled forms of communication. Suddenly, the use of all caps has replaced the proper use of exclamation points. Text messaging, Twitter and the like have eroded proper punctuation, which admittedly is cumbersome when using these forms of communication. And 2moro, b4, LOL and BTW have become acceptable spellings and abbreviations that even my 60-year-old mother understands.

I accept that English is a fluid language, one that is constantly in flux as it changes and evolves. I have trouble accepting, however, that laziness and the desire to become a Twitter celebrity can have such a profound impact on the language that professional book editors are allowing drivel to serve as literature.

Perhaps I’m just old and have trouble accepting change. But I don’t have a problem with new forms of communication and the shortcuts that facilitate the convenience for which they are intended. I have a problem when these shortcuts begin to influence the forms of writing that are supposed to be professional. How are today’s children and youths ever supposed to get a handle on proper grammar and spelling when they think “tomorrow” is OK spelled as “2moro” and “b4” is acceptable for “before”?

America’s educational system is already far behind others in the world (China, Europe, the U.K., etc.). Former President Bush’s No Child Left Behind — a topic for another day — has further battered education in the U.S. Will social media become the next thing that makes Americans dumber than their counterparts around the globe?

Glenn Beck's Big Mouth

2009-10-19T14:45:00.001-05:00

I started listening to Glenn Beck on the radio about six years ago, when his show was on during my morning drive. I’m not a conservative, but I believe you have to listen to all points of view in order to become informed enough to form a sound opinion of your own.

Here’s a recent example of this: If you listen to liberals, President Obama’s health care reform proposal sounds awesome. Health care for everyone — yay! And that’s the end of the liberal story. But if you listen to what conservatives are saying, you learn that Obama’s proposal also states that people who don’t have employer-provided health care and fail to enter the proposed government program can be sent to prison. I never heard the liberals talk about that part of the proposal. And that’s a big piece that I completely disagree with. This country’s prisons are already overcrowded because we imprison far too many nonviolent criminals. Now the government wants to imprison people who can’t afford the national health care program? There’s no way I’ll support that.

Conservatives also claim that a national health care program will bring tremendous tax increases. If you examine national health care programs in the U.K. and Canada, you’ll find that this is true. So even if Obama has the best intentions to implement a health care program without gross tax increases, it’s likely that a few years down the road, those intentions and expectations will be realized as unrealistic, and Americans’ taxes will indeed increase. If there’s one thing conservatives care about, it’s their money, so when they talk about money, I listen.

But I digress. None of this has much to do with Glenn Beck, other than the fact that he rants against government health care on his daily radio and television talk shows. The fact is, when I began listening to Beck, he didn’t have a TV show on FOX News, he hadn’t written any books. He was conservative, but he didn’t strike me as a crazy conservative like Rush Limbaugh (even though he is a Mormon). He wasn’t nearly as judgmental, he tried to substantiate his arguments and he seemed to have an open mind on many subjects. He was certainly tolerable, even during discussions when I chattered at the radio, “Aw, dude, you’re way off base.”

Whether I agreed or disagreed with him, Beck was entertaining and encouraged me to examine and try to understand opposing sides of current issues and events. I found him to be informative, if occasionally skewed, and his show made the drive to work a little more enjoyable.

Then Beck’s popularity exploded. He got a show on FOX News. He started writing political commentary books. He became a strong voice for conservatives, and liberals began to hate and criticize him. Unfortunately, rather than handling his newfound burst of popularity with grace, Beck turned into a dull, ranting radio tyrant. While I was unemployed and freelancing from home for the last year, I didn’t listen to Beck’s show. When I recently started working again, I tuned in to his show.

What I found was an oppressive, overly opinionated and closed-minded fool who too frequently performs one-sided, uninformed rants about political arguments with which he disagrees. Gone was the Glenn Beck of only a few years earlier, whom I found entertaining and informative.

Many times in recent weeks, I’ve found myself turning off the radio in the middle of one of Beck’s egotistical wastes of radio airtime. All too often, his discussions now dissipate into muddled off-topic rants about everything the current administration does that pisses him off. I’ve heard him one too many times complain about being treated unfairly by liberals — because of course his arguments against liberals are totally fair — and about how his newfound celebrity is such a burden.

Glenn Beck, give it a rest. Hop down from your high horse and join the rest of us groundlings in some semblance of reality. Stop trying to be Rush Limbaugh Lite. Stop allowing your discussions to unravel into nonsensical tirades that make me shout “Oh, shut the hell up!” at the radio before turning it off. Stop complaining about how unfair the liberals are when they criticize you. And please stop bitching about how difficult the celebrity you strived for and achieved is on your pathetic life. I want the old Glenn Beck back. The one who was intelligent and informed, who could at least back up his arguments with some facts. The man with whom I didn’t have to agree to find his show entertaining. Until that Glenn Beck makes a return, you’ve lost an intelligent listener.

Sometimes the Kids Should Stay Home

2009-09-11T00:40:00.012-05:00

In today’s baby- and child-obsessed world, parents feel like the world ought to revolve around their children. A friend recently e-mailed me after a torturous trip to her local Hy-Vee store, where they mollycoddle children with giant race-car shopping carts. “They hog the aisle,” she said. “Why do we have to indulge these families who are trying to make the kids think they’re at Disneyland?”

Why, indeed. I don’t know about you, but trips to the grocery store are at the bottom of my list of fun. I want to make my way through the store and get out in the shortest time possible. To facilitate this, I always shop with a list when I have more than four or five items, and my list is organized by the layout of the store.

It’s bad enough maneuvering around the groups of slow old people, who stand in the middle of the aisle looking at every every item 1 inch from their faces trying to read the package and figure out what the fuck is. It’s painful enough to have to deal with screeching and screaming children sitting in regular shopping carts. Now we have to deal with these enormous shopping carts taking up entire aisles so your frickin’ kids can think the grocery store is fun?

When we were little kids, my mother went to the grocery store in the evenings — by herself. Even though it was a chore, the fact that she could enjoy some child-free time by herself made it not so bad. And frankly, my brother, sister and I hated the grocery store, with its small toy section that never had any fun toys, just cheap crap that would break after 10 minutes of play. It became boring walking up and down the aisles, mostly filled with food we considered “grody.” Then, when we’d finally get to the good aisle — the chips and cookies aisle — Mom usually said no to the stuff we wanted or opted for the healthy crap like graham crackers. Frankly, she came home with more goodies and treats when she went to the store by herself. So for Mom to go to the grocery store without us in tow was perfectly fine by us.

The fact is that kids don’t enjoy trips to the grocery store. That’s why some idiot thought it would be an ingenious idea to design a huge race-car shopping cart to add some fun for kids. Never mind the majority of adults in the store who don’t want to be hampered by your giant race-car shopping cart with your kids screeching, “Vroom, vroom. Vrooooooom!” throughout the store.

I’ve had my own experiences with parents who don’t know their children’s place and insist on accommodating them to the discomfort of everyone else in the vicinity. My experience is most often at the Omaha Farmer’s Market in the Old Market district.

I love the farmer’s market. It runs from late spring until mid-October, and it’s a fun experience. You find all sorts of novel items — homemade mustard, hand-made goat cheese, local honey, unique jewelry and home items — along with fresh fruits and veggies. Street musicians are scattered throughout the area — it’s just a great environment on a Saturday morning. It’s a small space, though, and the stands are crammed together with narrow walkways in most areas.

When we were kids, my mother had this slim stroller called an umbrella stroller. A Google search revealed that this style of stroller is still available, although some manufacturers have seen the need to make them bulkier than they were intended to be. These strollers are great for a mom on the go because they are lightweight and fold up compactly. They’re also great for the people around you because they don’t run over everything in their way and you can actually see where you’re pushing the stroller.

Umbrella strollers are obviously the wise choice for parents who feel the need to bring their little kids to the farmer’s market. Not in Omaha, though. Oh, no — parents here bring their big-ass deluxe-style strollers that take up entire walkways and with which they run over the heels of anyone within a foot of their path. It’s as though the size of your kid's stroller is some kind of status symbol around here.

Every time I go to the farmer’s market, some idiot parent runs over my heel with their humongous stroller. One time, after a father had smacked my heel twice with his kid’s stroller, I turned around and said in a pissy tone, “Are you gonna try for three times with that thing?” Rather than apologize, he had the audacity to make some smart-ass comment about how I was a bitch, and I turned on him and told him to leave his fucking stroller at home next time since he obviously can’t drive the thing.

Last weekend I was at the farmer’s market and someone had a gigantic stroller that was not only wide, but I swear the bassinet of this thing came up to my chest. It was the biggest stroller I’ve ever seen. And the woman pushing it just barreled right through the throng of people, forcing everyone in her way to back up or try to become one with the wall of the building along the sidewalk. No apology for hogging the sidewalk, no look of shame for being rude to tens of people. Nope, she just hauled ass through there like it was her right because she’s a breeder. Just another way that child-free people get the shaft for making the decision not to reproduce.

I’ll admit, I’ve been driven to rudeness by the rude behavior of stroller pushers. I’ve been known to, when surrounded by three or more strollers, come to a dead stop, look at the person who’s with me and say loudly, “You know what I hate? Strollers in teensy-weensy crowded spaces ... LIKE THE FARMER’S MARKET.”

It’s a matter of common sense and consideration for others, folks. Many of us are child-free by conscious decision, and we don’t want to, nor should we have to, be burdened by your children when we go to places like the farmer’s market or the grocery store (or a restaurant, or Target or anywhere else that’s not actually designed for unruly children). The least you could do is show some consideration for the people around you.

Just Call it a Religion

2009-07-26T12:44:00.018-05:00

I just finished a fascinating book about the Mormon religion called Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith by Jon Krakauer. I received the book as a gift from a friend a few years ago. When I opened it, she said, “It’s about crazy, freaky Mormons.” For some reason, I wasn’t interested and I tossed the book in a box in my storage room. I think it might have been the cover that caused me to initially reject the book. I believe you can always judge a book by its cover, and Under the Banner of Heaven didn’t have a very interesting cover. Guess my bastardization of the cliche failed me this time.

I recently came across the book at Half Price Books in Omaha (where you can buy it for $3, if you’re interested), and recognizing it, I read the back cover. Why did I toss this aside? I thought. It looked like a great read. So I went home and pulled it out of the box in storage and added it to my nonfiction section.

I just finished Under the Banner of Heaven, and wow … what an intriguing, disturbing, brutal book. The premise of the book is how two fundamentalist Mormon brothers killed their younger brother’s wife and baby because God told them to. However, Krakauer provides a thorough history of Mormonism, a religion that is less than 200 years old.

I knew a little about today’s conventional Mormon church and the Mormon fundamentalists. Hey, I’ve watched “Big Love.” But I didn’t know all the delusions, fabrications and chicanery that went into Joseph Smith’s creation of the religion.

Smith created a religion in which he claimed he was a “prophet” who had conversations with God. God and the angel Moroni told him that he was to create the one true religion of God’s people — the Mormon religion. God would tell Smith tenets he was to add to the religion, such as polygamy is a godly act and all good Mormons should practice it, and financial wealth is good — God wants his chosen people to be wealthy.

Now, this was in the earliest days of the religion’s development. Since then, the Mormon Church has split from the fundamentalists — who still practice polygamy — and denounced the practice of polygamy, or “plural marriage.” This branch of Mormonism is known as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, or LDS.

However, the foundation of Mormonism is greed, indulgence, delusion and man’s controlling of other men with the simple words, “God said.”

As I read Under the Banner of Heaven, I laughed a lot because I couldn’t believe that any human would actually fall for Joseph Smith’s artful subterfuge, regardless of how charming and charismatic the man was. I mean, most of the religion is just ridiculous bullshit that anyone should be able to smell miles away.

In contemplating Mormonism, I was reminded of Scientology, that made-up religion designed by sci-fi writer L. Ron Hubbard. Scientologists believe in Incident II, when Xenu, the alien leader of the Galactic Confederacy, brought billions of his people to earth 75 million years ago and killed them using hydrogen bombs. Official Scientology doctrine holds that the spirits of Xenu’s people — called “body thetans” — remain and sort of “possess” modern humans, causing us spiritual harm.

The Church of Scientology claims to be able to cleanse your soul, or “thetan,” of these harmful spirits so you can become an “Operating Thetan” and eventually a godlike soul called a “Cleared Theta Clear.” For a hefty price, of course. Not until you pay the Church of Scientology hundreds of thousands of dollars can you achieve Cleared Theta Clear status. Which is why it attracts wealthy people and celebrities; they can afford to cleanse their thetans while the rest of us must live on with our dirty old body thetans.

Scientology came to be because Hubbard, a sci-fi writer, wrote some crap and claimed it was a religion — and people believed him. And Mormonism came about the same way. Joseph Smith had some bizarre dreams and told people he talked to the angel Moroni and to God, and people believed him without bothering to wonder if he was telling the truth or just batshit crazy.

I suppose other religions came about in similar ways. Some guy sat down and said, “I’m going to come up with something for people to believe in that will make me some money,” and thus a new religion was born. But the oldest religions, the pagan religions, came about because of peoples’ curiosity about the world around them. They didn’t understand weather and rain, so they thought there were rain gods to whom they could dance or pray for rain. They didn’t understand the rising and setting of the sun, so they told stories about Apollo and his chariot. In the beginning, religion was a way for humans to understand the unexplained.

All religion, when you sit back and consider it logically, rationally and intelligently, is silly and implausible. No longer do we need religion to explain the unexplained; science has done most of that for us. Today’s purpose for religion is to give people hope in hopeless times, to give them faith that their wishes might come true, to give them a sense of grounded-ness in a fleeting world. I get that. I don’t buy into it myself, but I get it.

Most religions, in their pure forms, encourage their followers to be loving, kind, generous people and to treat others the way they want to be treated. (I say “in their pure forms” because organized religion today is more about control and money than the spirituality of its followers. However, religious doctrines have good intent; it’s man who has corrupted them.) For some, religion is inspiration and peace, and who can find fault with that, even if the followers sometimes take their religions too literally?

But religions that are based on the needs and wants of men, that encourage greed and seek to make money off of gullible people are damaging to people and to society. That’s my problem with Mormonism and Scientology. Religions that teach that they are the one true religion, that only their followers are holy and will achieve “heaven” are destructive to the world. Just look at the current holy wars for examples of such devastation. Religions that are like little clubs, ousting and shunning people based on race, sexuality, gender or physical traits are counterproductive to achieving harmony in today’s world. And religious extremism is a dangerous thing in our world, the cause of wars and deaths around the globe.

My challenge to you is to contemplate your religion and why it is important in your life. To consider whether you need a “church” to achieve spirituality. To consider whether your church is based on smoke screens and money or focuses on the spirituality of the religion. I’m guessing a great many of you will be disappointed.

FSCs — WTF

2009-06-13T23:23:00.005-05:00

I thought I was going crazy. I bought a carton of cigarettes right before I went to Las Vegas, and I started the carton on my way to the Omaha airport. Later that night, as I lay in my very uncomfortable hotel bed, (It’s the Imperial Shithole, folks, not the Imperial Palace, unless you are lucky enough to get one of the remodeled rooms. I wasn’t.) I was smoking. I played with the remote controller and found local networks, gambling tutorial stations, and four cable stations. I turned back to my cigarette. It had gone out, and the paper had blackened where the cherry should have been.

During my days in Vegas, this occurred repeatedly. If I left a cigarette burning for 30 seconds, it went out. And every smoker knows that a relit cigarette tastes yucky.

So when I bought my next carton of cigarettes, I went to a different tobacco store, thinking that maybe my usual spot had received a bad shipment. When I smoked the first cigarette from the new carton, the same thing happened. Frustrated, I bought my next carton from my usual store again. Same thing.

However, between the second and third cartons, I broke into the emergency pack that I keep in my freezer. This is a pack of cigarettes that I keep in case I run out of cigarettes at an inopportune time or just don’t feel like leaving the house to go buy more. Usually my emergency packs spend months in the freezer. I opened the emergency pack, and every cigarette burned just fine. None of them mysteriously went out.

Then yesterday my brother and I were hanging out when I mentioned my cigarette-snuffing problem to him. “Hand me your pack,” he said. I did, and he turned the pack, then pointed out three little letters on the UPC of the pack: FSC.

“They’re the new fire-safe cigarettes,” he said.

“The wha?” I asked. I’d never heard of such a thing.

My bro explained that Nebraska has become the latest state to enact fire-safe cigarette legislation requiring all tobacco dealers to sell only FSCs. I was stunned for two reasons: First, why hadn’t I heard anything about these FSCs, and second, how did my brother know all about them and I didn’t?

So I got online and learned that New York was the first state to require FSCs almost five years ago. (I’d been in the dark about these for five years?) Indeed, Nebraska had passed legislation on May 19 requiring all cigarettes sold in the state to be FSCs by January 2010. I guess the tobacco shops are staying ahead of the game.

I also learned that the reason my FSCs were annoying the hell out of me was because they have two or three strips of less-porus paper in the rolling paper. The Coalition for Fire-Safe Cigarettes calls these strips “speed bumps.” When a burning cigarette reaches one of these strips of paper, the cigarette goes out unless you’re actively puffing on it. And I’ve discovered that you have to puff on it extra hard to prevent it from going out. I smoke the long 120s, so my cigarettes have three of these annoying strips of paper. Several pro-FSC sites claim that it takes five minutes for the cigarettes to go out; smokers, however, know that it takes about 30 seconds. And it’s really, really annoying.

The Coalition for Fire-Safe Cigarettes and other pro-FSC groups claim that FSCs will save lives by preventing smoking-related fires. This may be true, but no hard evidence exists to back up the claim. So considering this, I thought maybe FSCs would save some of my sheets from burn holes. I’m one of those “bad” smokers who likes a cigarette before bed, and when I’m stressed out, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and smoke in bed. So maybe these FSCs will go out as I drift off to sleep, preventing my sheets from looking like they were eaten by giant moths.

However, smokers have claimed that the FSCs taste bad. MSNBC published an article in January quoting a smoker who said FSCs “taste like crap.” And he’s not wrong. They taste fine to start with, but as soon as they go out, you have to relight them, and relit cigarettes certainly do taste like crap. I usually have to relight one of these FSCs at least twice.

Now, I know that nonsmokers don’t care whether a cigarette tastes lousy, but imagine that your favorite coffee or soda suddenly started tasting like crap or had a funky aftertaste. Wouldn’t that irk you?

And before you nonsmokers shout, “Good! Maybe you’ll all stop smoking!” keep in mind how much our tobacco taxes pay for, which will come out of your pockets if we all quit smoking.

I don’t see FSCs as picking on smokers per se, as some smokers do, but I do find the fact that states are enacting legislation requiring FSCs without hard proof that they actually reduce smoking-related fires to be ridiculous. If you can give me some proof, then maybe I’ll say they’re a good idea regardless of how they taste. But just blindly enacting legislation is stupid.

Aw, Bats

2009-06-05T01:05:00.006-05:00

So tonight when I just got out of the shower, I walked into my bedroom and my cat Sebastian was calmly sitting on the bed staring intently at the window shade over the bed. Usually when I walk into a room, he’s all about Mommy. But his eyes were glued to the window. And I knew before I even looked ... another bat.

Yep, folks, that’s two in one week. This time I didn’t even freak. I just got the cats out of the room, shut the door, and went downstairs to get the broom and dustpan.

Just today my friend Jim said that the old Victorian he grew up in always had bats and he was always on bat patrol. He told me the secret to catching them: a tennis racket and a dustpan. Evidently, bats’ sonar doesn’t detect the tennis racket because it goes right through the holes. Furthermore, they stay on a distinct flying pattern, so once you get the pattern down, you can easily swat them with the tennis racket. Then you sweep the bat into the dustpan and hold it there with the tennis racket to release it outside. I told Jim I was going to get a tennis racket the next time I go to Wally World. Well, I didn’t figure that I’d have another bat in my bedroom TONIGHT.

So this time my goal was to use Jim’s solution and swat the bat with the broom and sweep it into the dustpan, then hold it in the dustpan with the broom to get it outside. This so I wouldn’t have to stun the little fucker, as I still feel awful about using my stun gun on the one Sunday night/Monday morning. If I keep getting bats in my house, I will soon be a contender for the Major League because I’m getting pretty good at swatting them.

All went well, with no screaming this time — which is good because tonight my windows are open. I don’t even think my heart rate accelerated, partly because I have a towel wrapped around my wet head, so I wasn’t worried about the bat becoming entangled in my hair. I’m definitely going to get a tennis racket tomorrow, and I think I need to have someone check my attic for bats. *sigh*

Just Call Me Batgirl

2009-06-01T19:00:00.015-05:00

I had an intruder in my bedroom last night. I was reading in bed, and at 2 a.m. I decided I was tired enough to sleep, even though I just have a couple pages left in the book I’m reading. So I reached to turn off my bedside lamp, when something started flying around my bedroom. This is the second time I’ve had a bat in my bedroom — the last time was four or five years ago — so this time I was able to immediately identify it as a bat rather than first wondering how a bird got in my bedroom and then realizing it was a bat.

The frightening thing about bats is that they bite and can carry rabies. If not for that, I wouldn’t be so freaked out to find a bat in my house. Granted, they’re rodents, so I wouldn’t be inviting them in, but perhaps I wouldn’t scream like a white woman when one came inside. Bats are very useful to the environment, eating bugs and pesky mosquitoes, so I like them for that. Plus, they’re just cool looking. When you see one up close, they really are cute. And I got to see this one up close.

Of course the little fucker was flying low, and I started screaming and covering my head with the blanket, waiting for it to land somewhere so I could escape. My cat, Maceo, was at the end of the bed, but he didn’t seem to even notice the bat. Either that, or he decided it wasn’t worth another trip to the vet. Last time, I awoke at 4:30 a.m. to a horrendous banging noise behind the bedroom door. Maceo had cornered the bat. I freaked out because, as my cats are indoor cats, I hadn’t had them vaccinated since they were kittens. Hence the visit to the vet. (P.S. My vet sternly told me the reason she recommends vaccinating house cats is because it's not just if the cat gets outside; it's also because of what can get inside. My cats are now vaccinated every year.)

So I grabbed Maceo and carried him out of the room and shut the door. Damn. Phone in bedroom. So, peeking through a crack in the door, I waited until the bat decided to hang from the wall, then I raced in and grabbed my phone. I shut the door, put a towel underneath, and looked up the emergency number on the Nebraska Humane Society’s Web site. (Last time I called 911, but now that I’m experienced with the bat-in-the-bedroom problem, I know not to do that.) The woman said, “OK. I’ll fax this in and they’ll get it around 7 a.m.” WHAT?!?! NOOOO!

I said, “7 a.m.? It’s in my BEDROOM. Last time they came right away.” She said they don’t do that anymore. I guess the bat-in-the-bedroom program was part of budget cuts. What, then, is the point of having an emergency number? There was no way I could sleep knowing there was a bat in my bedroom, probably crapping all over everything. I contemplated calling my sis and her boyfriend, but I decided it would be rude to wake them up just for all three of us to stand around going, “How do we get the bat out of the house?” I decided that I had to suck it up and get rid of this bat on my own. So I got my broom from the basement and prepared for battle.

I closed the cats in the guest bedroom and opened the front door, propping the screen door wide open so I could (hopefully) swat the bat through the door and on his merry way. I also hoped that no one would decide to walk in and rape and rob me at 2 a.m. When I went back in my bedroom, the bat was gone. I used the broom to fish under the bed, under the dresser, under and behind the nightstand, in the curtains and shades, in the bed, and through the closet. No fucking bat. At this point, I started to doubt my own sanity and think maybe there never was a bat.

So I started fishing and swatting everything again, and lo and behold, I heard a buzzy squeak (bats make a weird sound; they don’t sound like mice, surprisingly). Found him. He was behind the window shade above my bed. So I grabbed the cord to the window shade (thank god it’s a long cord), opened it and swatted the bat out with the broom. It fell onto my bed, behind a pillow. I swatted it out and it started flying. It was flying low and I was screaming as I was trying to swat it. If my windows had been open, the neighbors would have called the cops for all the noise I made.

Now, bats are kind of cute, so I feel bad about how this ended.

Finally I got in a good swat with the broom and knocked the sucker half unconscious. It fell behind the litter box, behind my bedroom door. So I moved the litter box (spilling the cats’ water dish) and tried to get it to fly with the intention of using the broom to guide it out the front door — which was still wide open, by the way. Well, it crawled behind the dresser. So I moved the dresser and it crawled under it. Finally it crawled out from behind the dresser and by the litter box again. At this point, it regained full consciousness and began to fly. More screaming and swatting. Now my goal was just to swat it good, stun it with my stun gun (which was in my purse on the closet door) and transport it out of the house.

This went as planned. I nailed it with the broom, then I stunned the little fucker with my stun gun. It couldn’t move, but it was still squawking (which makes me wonder about the quality of that stun gun as well as the sturdiness of bats). At any rate, it couldn’t move, so I swept it down the stairs and out the door onto the porch. It was just starting to be able to move (not fly, though) when I shut the door.

About 30 minutes later, I peeked out the door onto the porch. The bat was gone, so he recovered from being stunned and flew off, although I feel awful that he’s surely permanently emotionally disturbed from the incident, and I sincerely hope I didn’t break any of his little bat bones because that would just make me feel terrible.

Oh, and the Nebraska Humane Society showed up at my house at 9 a.m. to remove the bat. Good thing I don't have a job; if I hadn't removed the bat myself I wouldn't have been able to get dressed for work this morning.

TSA Can Kiss My Ass

2009-05-31T22:31:00.002-05:00

Returning from Las Vegas yesterday I encountered a Transportation Security Administration issue in the security line at the Las Vegas airport. While in Vegas, I purchased two lighters — one for my sis and one for my brother. As I was under the impression that TSA now allows people to bring lighters on airplanes, I packed the lighters in my carry on. I did not read the fine print about carrying lighters on airplanes. In fact, I’m not even sure where to find the fine print.

Now, I’ve traveled quite a bit, even internationally. When I was returning from London a few years ago, it was during the time when no lighters were allowed in any luggage. I found a cool lighter for my brother at one of the markets in London, so I stuck it in my dirty clothes bag. When the agent at Heathrow went through my checked luggage, he looked at the garbage bag and said, “Dirty clothes?” I nodded, and he couldn’t move away from that bag fast enough. That’s how my brother got a lighter from London.

When TSA started requiring passengers to separate all liquids and gels that would be carried onto planes into a quart-sized zipper bag, I was traveling to Houston, and I obeyed the rule. Actually, I didn’t have quart-sized bags, so I used a gallon bag. Omaha’s airport made me cram my stuff into one of their quart-sized bags, but Houston’s airport didn’t seem to notice the gallon-size bag when I returned. On a later trip, I forgot to separate the makeup I carry in my purse, though, and no one at any airport said a word. So I stopped separating such items, and I’ve never had a problem. Keep in mind that I frequently catch connecting flights in Chicago, and I go outside to smoke between flights, which means I have to go through security at O’Hare, too. So at least three airports in a single round trip have let things slip through security. And I’m just one passenger. TSA is terribly inconsistent — and not just from airport to airport. TSA is inconsistent from agent to agent.

So when the inspection agent in Las Vegas flagged my carry-on bag for hand inspection, I was sure it was because of my stun gun. I’d never traveled with it before, and I was practically sweating thinking that the agent was going to pull my cute pink stun gun from my purse and take it away from me. The bag inspector took me to a semi-private area and grabbed my carry-on bag, not my purse, and said the scanner picked up a lighter. I told her I’m sure it did; I’m a smoker, but I thought lighters were OK. She said the problem is torch-style lighters, not regular lighters.

She went through my carry on and pulled out the lighters I’d gotten for my brother and sister. She lit them. They were torch-style lighters. She said I couldn’t take them on the plane. Now, I know that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, so I was very polite and sweet and told her they were souvenirs for my brother and sister, and I promised not to light them on the plane. She said she couldn’t let me take them on the plane. I could either surrender them to her or go to the mail booth and mail them home. So I asked where the mail booth was. She pointed outside the security area and said, “Over there.”

“So if I mail them I have to go through security again?”

“Yes.”

At this point I became angry (this was all happening at 6 a.m., and I am not a morning person). “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said, and stormed off toward the mail booth. Each lighter was $10 and I wasn’t just going to throw away $20 so this TSA agent could get a couple of free lighters. The agent called after me, “All of our policies are available …” I didn’t hear the rest of it. I was just pissed off.

So I went to the mail booth and discovered that it costs $19.95 to mail one lighter, and each lighter must be mailed separately. Seriously. It was going to cost me $40 to mail two lighters home. What a crock of shit.

At this point, I decided to go to the ladies room and toss the lighters in the bottom of my purse. There was so much junk in the bottom of my purse after three days in Vegas, I figured two lighters would never stand out. I imagined the scanning agent would become tired of trying to figure out what each item in the bottom of my purse was and would give up. When I pulled out the lighters, I remembered that they were refillable. So I took a pen tip and let all the butane out of the lighters, then threw them in the bottom of my purse. I could refill them at home. I figured if TSA busted me again, I would play innocent and tell them that I emptied the lighters so they’re not a hazard and see where that got me.

So I once again joined the security line, a little nervous this time and searching for the agent I’d told off earlier. I definitely didn’t want to run into her again. She wasn’t going to cut me any slack.

As my bag and purse were scanning, I saw one agent point out something to another and whisper, “Torch lighter.”

Fuck, I thought, I’m busted again. But I was ready with my excuse. They called for a bag inspection, and eventually a tall man came over to the line. They pointed to a bag. It wasn’t mine! It belonged to the poor older woman in front of me. My bags went through just fine this time.

And that’s what I mean about inconsistency. I still had two torch lighters in my carry-on luggage, although they were empty. However, after I got through security, I realized that I had another torch lighter — an old junky one — in the front pocket of my purse that had fuel in it and no one ever flagged it.

And how about my stun gun? Faithful readers know I don’t leave home without it, and I had it in my purse when I left Omaha and when I left Las Vegas. But it looks like a mobile phone, so TSA thought nothing of it. Now, I can do a lot more damage with my stun gun than with a torch lighter, but apparently TSA hasn’t thought of that.

I felt sorry for the lady in front of me who’d gotten pulled out of line for a bag inspection. I noticed that the Las Vegas TSA staff flags an enormous number of torch lighters. I’ll bet those inspectors have lighters like crazy. They probably give them to their family members for Christmas. Because you know those lighters aren’t going into the trash. The agents are keeping them. And when the nice ones cost $10 or more — well, you can see where I’m going with this.

Furthermore, souvenir shops in Las Vegas all sell torch lighters, but not one of them had a notice near the lighters stating that you can’t take them on airplanes. I think it’s only fair that they should post that.

The big issue of this story is TSA’s inconsistency, though. TSA’s little rules only keep the honest people honest. If someone really wants to sneak something on a plane, it’s definitely possible. The government wants airplane passengers to feel safe flying, so it implements all these policies and regulations. But anyone who thinks those are keeping them safer is just fooling himself.

Frankly, I think all passengers should fly with stun guns. Perhaps some of the tragedies of 9/11 could have been prevented if a few passengers had stunned those terrorists.

Unemployment Is Making Me Fat

2009-05-25T20:30:00.007-05:00

Eight months of unemployment is making my gut enormous. I’ve gained five pounds since September. That might not sound bad, but I gained 35 pounds during my thyroid ordeal, and I’m supposed to have lost that weight already — not gained more.

Evidently gaining weight during a recession is a common anomaly. I’ve read several articles about how people gain weight during a recession for a variety of reasons: money worries or job loss causes stress; fast food is comforting, convenient and cheap; depression leads to inactivity and overeating. I’ll check all three boxes, please.

I think my biggest problems are inactivity and using chocolate as a cure for depression. Although the weather has turned nice and I am out in the yard gardening almost every day, I spend most of my time tied to my computer. If I’m not working on freelance projects, then I’m searching for jobs online. Sometimes I play Tetris for a couple hours just to take my mind off how bad being unemployed sucks. Sometimes I run to Taco John’s for Taco Tuesday because, hey, I can afford Taco Tuesday. I might as well sit in those large orders of Potato Olés because they’re going right to my ass.

It’s a well-known fact that chocolate activates serotonin in the brain, the chemical that makes you happy. I don’t like any sweets except for chocolate (and baklava), but unfortunately you can find chocolate everywhere. At Easter, I love those Robin Eggs. I’m not a fan of regular malted milk balls; they have to have that candy coating on them. So this Easter season, I ate one of the 46-oz. bags and a couple of the 12-oz. bags. Thank god you can only get those things around Easter.

Although I’ve limited it by increasing the number of cigarettes I smoke, I do find myself indulging in stress eating. And the thing is, it doesn’t really reduce the stress because afterward I want to slap myself for eating things that are only going to increase my Buddha belly. I’m not sure smoking nearly two packs of cigarettes is a great solution, but I’m convinced that I’d be fatter if I smoked less.

I’ll tell you what else doesn’t help my increasing butt and gut: yoga pants and Hanes sweat clothes. These are what I’ve lived in for the past eight months. Elastic waistbands make it really tough to tell when you’ve gained weight, and they can even trick you into thinking you’ve lost some weight. Then when you put on a pair of dress pants it becomes frighteningly obvious that you certainly did not lose any weight.

I look longingly at the array of cute clothes in my closet that no longer fit. I had to go out and buy fat clothes in case I get a job sometime soon. Previously my “fat” clothes were the size 8s. Well, that’s not the case right now. Unfortunately, I suspect that the companies at which I’m applying would frown upon yoga pants and a t-shirt as work attire.

I have a beautiful elliptical machine that I paid $1,200 for two years ago. Although I haven’t resorted to hanging clothes from it yet, I’m not using it. And it’s in my office, so I see it all day, every day. I guess once you buy the equipment, you actually have to use it. I hate to work out. Hate, hate, hate it. There are so many more productive things I could be doing, and those things are all I can think about while I’m on the elliptical. Alas, I have to do something soon, so I guess I’ll be getting on it again.

I’m going to Las Vegas for my friend’s wedding this week, and I have resolved that when I return I will change the way I eat and make sure to work out daily. I think I’m going to try walking at the park down the street. It has a nice walking trail and I’ll get to enjoy the outdoors. I really hate working out, but I hate being fat even more.

Ben Becomes Katie

2009-05-19T18:03:00.008-05:00

For years I have relished the tales that my friend Betty* used to tell about her son, Ben. Although I haven’t seen Betty in three or four years, little Ben pops into my mind frequently. Even when Ben was 3 years old, Betty knew he was not a normal little boy. Ben liked “girl” toys and shunned typical “boy” toys. He loved pink. For fun, Ben dressed up in girls’ clothes and Betty’s high heels. And for Halloween, Ben wanted to be a princess.

Betty was a very cool mom, and not in the mom-that-smokes-pot kind of way. Although she was very Catholic, Betty and her husband’s attitude toward Ben’s affinity for all things girlie was, “Hey, whatever makes the kid happy.” And that year, Ben was indeed a princess for Halloween.

Betty and her husband’s attitude of “Hey, whatever makes the kid happy” allowed Ben to be himself. He’d taken over a pair of pumps as his own — which leads me to my very favorite Ben story. One night, when Betty and her husband had company, Ben was dressed as a girl and came down the stairs shouting, “Mom! Where’s my pumps?” This evoked laughter from everyone, the guests assuming that little Ben was going through a “stage.”

Betty always suspected there was something more to Ben’s behavior, though. She would joke about her “daughter Ben.” Betty had had a third child, hoping for a girl. It was a boy. But with Ben’s behavior, she teased, “I might just get my daughter after all.”

Although Betty suspected that Ben was a gay man in the making, she refused to act on this suspicion, instead allowing Ben to just be himself. I always admired the way Betty and her husband handled Ben’s girlishness. Many parents, especially fathers, would have said, “No, Ben. Boys don’t play with dolls,” or “No, Ben. Boys don’t wear dresses and high heels.” They would have told Ben what the “boy” things to do were, and they would have forced the kid to behave like a boy. Not Betty and her husband, though.

So when I started reading an article on the front page of today’s Omaha World-Herald about an 8-year-old boy named Ben who would start school next year as Katie, I immediately thought of my friend Betty and her son Ben. As I read the article, the stories were familiar — too familiar. And Betty's Ben would be about 8 now. I suspected the family in the article was Betty and Ben’s.

Then I read a line that identified Ben’s mom as an Omaha attorney, and I knew this was indeed Betty’s family. The article discussed Betty and Ben’s journey to discovering that Ben has gender identity disorder, also known as transgender.

Ben feels like a girl. He told Betty that he has a girl heart and girl feelings. He also told her he couldn’t wait to grow up and have babies. When Betty would ask Ben what he liked about being a boy, he always answered, “Nothing,” and he began to reject his penis, asking Betty when God would make it go away so he could get his girl parts. He has even described himself as a “boy-girl.”

Not many parents would be able to handle a child like Ben with the finesse and grace that Betty and her husband have.

The Omaha World-Herald article was one of the ways that Betty and Ben went public this week, speaking up about gender identity disorder. Betty went on Tom Becka’s radio show on Thursday, and she and Ben are appearing on the 10 o’clock news tonight. However, Ben is now officially known as Katie.

In a way, the recent attention to Katie’s story is her debut. Last year, Ben decided he wanted a new name — a girl name. So he and his parents sat down and he chose his new name: Mary Kathryn, or Katie for short. Ben began living a double life at that point. At home and during the summer he was Katie. At his Catholic school, he was Ben. Now, however, Ben wants to be Katie full time.

This posed some problems, not the least of which was that Ben’s Catholic school said Ben was welcome, but Katie was not. Thus, Betty made the tough decision to switch Katie to public school next year.

Katie certainly has tough times ahead. Kids can be cruel, and Katie could face some challenges in areas such as gym class and the locker room. And dating will certainly be awkward. Even if Katie takes hormones to postpone puberty and to enhance female characteristics, she can’t have gender-changing surgery until she’s 18. Dating could become really awkward.

Still, Katie is happier than ever now, and her parents have lived up to their philosophy of “Hey, whatever makes the kid happy.” With such a strong family unit and wonderful parents, I think Katie will turn out just fine.

*Name has been changed to protect the family.

Scammer — A Career I’d Never Contemplated

2009-04-28T15:20:00.007-05:00

About a year ago, a man rang my doorbell around 11:30 p.m. He looked like a nice guy — he was a clean, polite, black gentleman in his late 40s or so. I opened the door but kept my screen door locked. He introduced himself as Mr. So-and-So and said I might recognize him from the Hoop It Up! promotions. He tried to shake my hand, but I wouldn’t unlock my screen door. He acted offended. He asked if I was familiar with Hoop It Up! When I shook my head, he explained that it was a youth organization, blah blah blah. Then he asked me if my husband was home. I told him my husband was asleep. (Hey, I'm not stupid; I'm not going to tell him I'm home alone.)

Next, he said that he’d run out of gas a couple blocks away on Northwest Radial, and he asked if he could borrow $10 for gas. I told him I didn't have any cash.

“Is your husband home?” he asked again. Again, I told him that my husband was sleeping. He insisted that he would pay me back if I “loaned” him gas money. I insisted I didn’t have any cash, and I became a little testy so he’d leave. Again he asked me if my husband was home, and again I told him he was sleeping.

Afterward, his visit bothered me when I thought about it. I didn't like that he'd come to my door so late. I didn’t like that he’d asked so many times if my husband was home. It seemed he was trying to determine whether I was home alone. Also, if his car was on 48th and NW Radial, he could have walked four blocks to the BP Station on 52nd and NW Radial. The whole encounter was just bizarre.

So yesterday, my doorbell rang around 2:15 in the afternoon. I went to the door, and I instantly recognized Mr. Hoop-It-Up. Again, I didn't unlock my screen door, and again, he acted offended when he introduced himself, tried to shake my and hand, and said I might recognize him from Hoop It Up! I just looked at him blankly. Then he started his spiel — the same spiel he had a year ago. I stopped him midsentence and said, “Let me guess: your car ran out of gas a couple blocks away?”

“Yes,” he said, to which I replied, “You’ve told me this story before.” He tried to play like I was mistaken. He said he does door-to-door promotions for Hoop It Up! and I must recognize him from that. I said, “No, you came to my house late one night with this same out-of-gas story.” He asked if I had a gas can, and I said I didn’t (I don’t, because I can manage to remember to put gas in my car). He then said something about borrowing $7 or $8. I told him I didn’t have any cash and added, “I will suggest, however, that you learn to keep your gas tank full.”

He kind of smirked in an aw-shucks way and said, “But it’s just so hard to remember ...”

“No, it’s really not,” I said snottily. Then he said something about doing work for the money. I told him I didn’t need any work done and closed the door.

Last time this happened, a couple friends I’d told about it said I should have called the police. I hadn’t even thought to do that. This time, it took me about an hour to think to notify the police. I was certain he had probably left the neighborhood by then, so I found the e-mail address to report a crime, and I sent an e-mail to the Omaha Police Department. Then I thought I should also notify Hoop It Up!, as this creep is using the organization’s name. So I sent an e-mail to the national and regional directors.

Today I received a response from the police department that the man seems suspicious and I should call 911 next time I see him in the neighborhood. The responding officer also said that she would notify the commanding officers in my area about this guy. Hoop It Up! responded that they don’t have anyone working for them in Omaha and that this guy is not representing their organization. I forwarded that to the police, too.

I asked my neighbor yesterday if Mr. Hoop-It-Up had stopped by her house asking for money. She said he hadn’t, and she’d been home all day. This really creeped me out and made me feel targeted — twice — by this guy.

I responded by purchasing a 1.7-million-volt stun gun to keep by my door. I carry my pink stun gun in my purse, but I don’t keep my purse near the door. Now I have one to keep at the door if anyone tries to fuck with me. And it will come in handy keep away Jehovah’s Witnesses, too. (Although I haven’t had any trouble with them since I told them a few years ago to get the fuck off my property and never come back. You can always get rid of Jehovah’s Witnesses by dropping the f-bomb.)

What really pisses me off about this is that Mr. Hoop-It-Up is not the only one out there running door-to-door scams for cash. Recently two people were reported going door-to-door in northwest Omaha supposedly collecting money for a church.

You know, I’m unemployed and trying to live on literally half of what I took home at my former job. I’m poor right now. If it weren’t for my savings, I would be screwed. But you don’t see me going door-to-door for handouts. Hell, I’m not even on unemployment because I’m freelancing to pay my bills. And it sucks. Freelance work is boring as hell. And sure, there are some days when it sounds good to sit on my ass and do nothing but collect unemployment. But I’m not that kind of person.

I almost hope Mr. Hoop-It-Up comes back because I’m going to stun him to teach him a lesson about asking for handouts rather than getting his ass to work and earning money like the rest of us.

United Doesn’t Like Big Butts

2009-04-16T20:56:00.003-05:00

On April 15, United Airlines announced that obese passengers on full flights will have to pay for an extra seat if they are too big to fit in one seat. Oh, so now there’s a fat tax to fly? Actually, United isn’t the first airline to come up with this policy. Southwest Airlines has been doing it for many years.

United’s new policy requires anyone who can’t fit in a single seat, properly buckle the seatbelt, or put the armrest fully down to purchase a second seat on full flights. If two adjoining seats are available in the cabin, then an overweight person can use the second seat free of charge. If no empty seats are available, then the overweight passenger would be required to purchase a second seat or upgrade to business class. If this is not an option, then passenger must rebook his or her flight.

Many people have spoken out praising United’s policy as fair, saying that they are tired of being overcrowded by overweight seatmates on airplanes. I understand that. But anyone who’s ever flown coach knows that those seats aren’t spacious to begin with. And I’ve had to sit next to skinny people who spread out as much as they want, invading my seat space. There’s nothing I can do about that, other than to seem rude by asking them to stay in their own seat.

This is why, for a few dollars extra, some airlines now provide a few extra inches of legroom for tall passengers. Why can’t the airlines do the same for overweight passengers by providing seats with extra butt room for overweight passengers?

Corporate greed, discrimination and elitism, that’s why. It’s socially acceptable to discriminate against fat people; it’s not socially acceptable to discriminate against tall people. However, by providing plus-sized seats, airlines might have to reduce the number of people they can book on a single flight. And that would be money out of their pockets.

Remember when the airlines added a fuel surcharge to all flights? Did that ever go away? Oddly, when fuel prices dropped, airline ticket prices did not.

Airlines are getting plenty of money. It’s not passengers’ fault if the airlines can’t budget properly or are paying their corporate fat cats way too much money. If they reduced the salary of some of their executives, then they’d be able to add two or three plus-sized seats to every plane.

Or maybe airlines just need to rethink the size of their seats altogether. People are bigger now than they were 30 years ago, and those seats don’t seem to have changed size much. Maybe all seats should be a little more spacious so passengers aren’t sitting on top of their neighbors even when neither person is overweight. Sure, there would be fewer people on the plane, but that’s not all bad, either.

Another problem I have with United’s policy is that it causes unnecessary embarrassment to overweight passengers, who are already embarrassed on a daily basis. If a flight attendant told the person next to me that he or she was too fat and needed to buy a second seat, I would be embarrassed for the person, and I would probably have some unkind words for the flight attendant. I just don’t want to see someone treated like that. Although I’m really not a people person, I hate to see underdogs treated poorly.

If airlines want to ensure the comfort of all passengers so badly, then why do I always get stuck on flights with screaming children? This is not comfortable for me or for other passengers, but the children are still allowed to scream, and the parents don’t have to pay extra. In fact, those parents should have to pay me and all the other passengers for having to listen to that noise.

I can’t choose a childfree flight — and believe me, if I could, I would. Tall people can get extra legroom. And overweight people should be allowed to choose plus-sized seats when they order their tickets.

Granted, United’s policy only takes effect on flights where two seats together are not available for an overweight person, and Southwest says it refunds 97 percent of second seats purchased because the extra fee is only applicable on flights with no empty seats. Nevertheless, just having a “fat policy” in place is uncouth and discriminatory.

Gay Marriage in the Heartland

2009-04-10T19:54:00.001-05:00

On April 3, Iowa became the newest state to legalize gay marriage. Gay couples in Iowa and Nebraska are rejoicing that a state in America’s Heartland has finally moved into the 21st century. And it just would be Iowa. People outside the Midwest think of Iowa as a corn state that produces down-home farm boys. But in truth, Iowa has been a “blue” state for many years — one of the few in our region.

Nebraskans love to bash Iowa. Omaha is just across the Missouri River from Iowa. Omahans really have a poor opinion of Council Bluffs, Iowa, a town just across the Missouri River from Omaha. Omahans take special glee in calling it Counciltucky and bashing the town. That is, when they aren’t driving across the bridge to the bars at 1 a.m. so they can drink that extra hour that Iowa bars are open after Nebraska bars close. Or when they’re not at the casinos just across the river because Iowa allows gambling and Nebraska doesn’t. Or when they aren’t traveling to Iowa during presidential races because Iowa is a caucus state and politicians always visit Council Bluffs to attract both Iowans and Omahans.

Council Bluffs’ worst sin is its name. It really does have a redneck-sounding name, which is punctuated by the fact that there’s a good deal of white trash in CB. Council Bluffs is not as cosmopolitan as Omaha: it doesn’t have high-end theaters like Omaha’s Orpheum or Holland Center, so the Broadway shows stop in Omaha, not Council Bluffs. It doesn’t have the landmark art galleries and museums that Omaha has. Council Bluffs doesn’t have the high-end shopping centers and stores that Omaha has.

However, Council Bluffs also doesn’t have the gang and crime problems that Omaha has. State, local, and property taxes are lower. And Council Bluffs is in a blue state, if you care about that.

Over the last week, Omaha’s gay community has embraced Iowa and Council Bluffs because they can go across the bridge to be legally married. This brings me to a question I've had when other states legalized gay marriage, and now I see my friends doing the same thing. Here’s my big question: Why do gay couples get married in a state where gay marriage is legal when the state they live in doesn’t recognize that marriage?

A lesbian couple with whom I am good friends is going to Council Bluffs on May 1 to be married. They live in Omaha. I asked them if they were planning to move to Iowa, where they could take advantages of the benefits of their marriage. Their answer was maybe. Granted, now is not the time to sell a house, and they’ve only lived in their house for about three years. But if they’re not sure whether they’re going to move to Iowa, why are they bothering to get married — and hold a reception — if they’re staying in Nebraska? Nebraska doesn’t recognize their marriage. To me, it makes sense to move to Iowa, then get married.

A gay couple I know is also going to CB to get married in May. They, too, aren’t sure whether they’ll move to Iowa. Both of these couples have already held commitment ceremonies in front of family and friends to publicly announce their love for each other. So I’m stuck wondering why they find it necessary to go get married in Iowa but still live in Nebraska.

This happened, too, when Massachusetts legalized gay marriage. Couples from around the country flocked to Massachusetts to be married when the states where they reside don’t give acknowledge it. What’s the point?

Perhaps it’s the gay community’s way of taking a stand and telling their rights-limiting states to shove it, they’ll go get married in another state. But who really has the last laugh when the states where they reside ignore their marriages? Frankly, rather than spending the time and money to marry in another state, I’d rather see the gay community come together and fight for the right to marry in their own states. I’d rather see them go to the federal government and take charge of their constitutional rights. Maybe they’re fooling themselves into thinking that it’s OK if their own states are bigoted as long as they can have a real wedding somewhere. I hate to think that gay people are that desperate to be married.

Prohibiting gay people from marrying is simply unconstitutional. Who says that a marriage must include a man and a woman? The Christians preach that, but then, churches don’t have to marry gay couples; they can be married by a justice of the peace. The federal and state governments should not make such a bigoted declaration. Give gay people the legal right to marry and give them the benefits that go along with it. Give them the right to adopt one another’s children. Give them the right to each other’s property. Who cares. It doesn’t affect anyone but the couple, anyway.

Right-wing conservatives and Christian zealots use marriage merely as an elitist weapon against gay people — and the federal government allows it. Rather than determining whether marriage must be between a man and a woman, the federal government should be looking at marriage as a commitment and sharing of property between two people who love each other — same sex or opposite sex.

Remember separation of church and state? I do, and it declares that the government can’t make laws and policies based on religion. The government should say, “That’s fine that god or Jesus or whoever disapproves of gay marriage, but the government does not abide by one particular god, and we will not determine whether the couple marrying must be a man and a woman or two men or two women.”

That’s it. End of story. For the government to base the legality of marriage on the Bible or any other religion is against what the constitution of this country stands for.

Kindness Reigns During Tough Times

2009-03-23T17:19:00.000-05:00

Although my father hasn’t called me in two months, most likely because he is afraid that I might ask him for money — which if he actually knew me, he would know would never happen — I am finding that most people are helping out those of us who have lost our jobs and are facing difficult times. It’s giving me a renewed hope for today’s society and is exactly what this country needs to do in order to come together again.

I am eternally thankful to my sister and mother, who have both been more than generous during these six — yes, six — months I have been unemployed and trying to live on freelance work while getting rejected for jobs. They have been wonderful to me. Accepting help is very difficult for me. I am fiercely independent, and I believe that you have to help yourself. I have never relied upon anyone else. I still don’t rely on the government to help me — I make too much money by freelancing to qualify for unemployment assistance. In the past six months, however, I have come to realize that even I need a little help sometimes.

My CPA showered some kindness on me when I had my taxes done at the beginning of March. I think he felt bad when he entered my job title as “unemployed.” He felt even worse when it turned out I owe the IRS $1,500. The reason is that no taxes are paid on freelance work throughout the year; you either have enough in deductions that you don’t owe the IRS, or you have to pay. Well, this year, I didn’t have enough in deductions.

My CPA is a beloved regular customer at a restaurant where I worked for many years. He took a liking to those of us who worked the crappy lunch shifts, and one of my dear friends from that job is now his assistant. He’s always cut me a break on the cost of my taxes. I did my own 1040EZ form until I bought a house and coincidentally started freelancing more. After that, I didn’t want to deal with deductions and whatnot, so now I hand him my folder of stuff every year and he figures it out.

Before I started going to him, the first year I owned my house, I went to H&R Block. What a rip-off. Some dumbass who knew nothing about tax law sat there and entered numbers into a computer and charged me $140. I could have done that with TurboTax, but I wanted to talk to someone who knew about tax law. From thereon, I have gone to my current CPA, and I adore him. But I digress.

He charged me $70 to do my taxes until I started freelancing regularly and had to file more forms for self-employment. Then he charged me $120. (H&R Block would have charged me more than $200.) This year, however, he took pity on my employment predicament and charged me $100. He said he shouldn’t even charge me, but I insisted. A couple days later, his assistant called to tell me that they had decided to rip up my check this year. She said I’m as good as family, and they don’t charge family when they’re having hard times. I told her that was unnecessary; they had already given me a huge break on the cost. She insisted it was already done.

I was truly touched and nearly cried.

My favorite tale of generosity during these hard times comes from a friend who worked in my department until the company eliminated the marketing department and all of us. He and his wife have six kids, all in private Catholic school. The oldest just started his freshman year at Creighton Prep, a prestigious all-boy private school in Omaha. That, however, was when my friend still had his job.

Since he lost his job in September, my friend’s wife has been working full time in a hospital lab. Nevertheless, with six kids, times are immensely tough for them, and Creighton Prep’s tuition is sky high. My friend had paid part of the tuition at the beginning of the school year, and he was worried about how he would ever pay the rest of it.

He sat down his son and told him that they may not be able to afford for him to continue at Creighton Prep, and he may have to enroll in public school. His son was very understanding, even though this came midway through the school year.

So my friend went to Creighton Prep to find out how much he had to pay now and how much he could defer. Imagine his shock when the school told him that an anonymous donor from his church had paid the balance of the tuition. This was no small gift. The Good Samaritan had paid thousands of dollars.

My friend said when he told his wife about the gift, she just sat down and cried for a full five minutes. He then sat down his son again and told him that evidently someone believes he deserves to be going to that school, that he has the intelligence to succeed, and he needs to do his best and study to show them they weren’t wrong. In atypical teenager behavior, his son nodded and fully agreed.

These people have made me realize that not all people are selfish assholes, and that there are some Christians out there who actually do live up to the standards of their religion. Over the past eight years — the Bush years — I have become jaded about people and Christianity because I have seen too many hypocrites. The anonymous donor’s act of kindness makes me see that there are still some wonderful people in the world, and in Omaha.

Bless the Smokers

2009-03-14T18:55:00.014-05:00

I’m really tired of the general public and city and state governments treating smokers like lepers and then turning around and reaping the benefits from the taxes smokers pay on tobacco products. Nonsmokers bitch about how terrible smoking is and how much they hate smoking. They vote for city ordinances and state laws to ban smoking in public. But they sure don’t have a problem taking our tax money and putting it into programs that don’t benefit smokers at all.

I’m talking about the federal government’s recent decision to increase the tobacco tax from 39 cents a pack to $1.01 a pack beginning April 1. This increase will create the money the Fed needs to pay for a proposed $35 billion increase in children’s health coverage. Everyone’s perfectly happy to let smokers pay for their public programs and rather than a thanks, we are continually persecuted.

And let’s talk about exactly who pays when the tobacco tax is increased. Smoking demographics indicate that the majority of smokers are poor or poverty-level, undereducated Americans. So let’s tax the poor to pay for bullshit social programs.

If you’re going to bitch about how unhealthy smoking is and persecute smokers, then at least let us benefit from the taxes we pay. You complain that our health insurance costs should be higher because of smoking-related illnesses; then you should take our tobacco tax money and put it into health programs for smokers. But no; you’d rather tax the hell out of tobacco and then charge us higher health insurance rates on top of that. What a crock of shit.

Think about this: without smokers, the Fed wouldn’t have the money for the children’s health coverage program and would be taxing something else — likely something that would impact all you nonsmokers. You are greatly benefitting from my smoking, yet you’ll turn around and piss and moan about it.

Yes, I’m angry, and I have a right to be. Smoking is not illegal. Tobacco products are not illegal. Yet the nonsmokers have gotten their way and exiled smokers from public facilities. Rain or shine, bitter cold or sweltering heat, I am forced to take a cigarette outdoors, and in some places, smokers are required to stand a specific distance from a building or door. But you nonsmokers sure do love the benefits of the taxes I pay on my cigarettes.

If I have to listen to your offensive comments about smoking, then my reward should be that the money I pay in tobacco taxes comes back to help me when I get lung cancer. If I get lung cancer. See, there are so many factors that contribute to whether someone develops cancer. Smoking might be one factor, but it’s unfair to lay all the blame on smoking. What about the people who have smoked for 50 years and have perfectly clear lungs? How about the people who have lung cancer and have never smoked? Oh, wait, you’ll blame that on my secondhand smoke.

The fact of the matter is that studies on the effects of smoking are largely inconclusive and based on a lot of guesswork. Some people are genetically or hereditarily predisposed to certain types of cancer, including lung cancer, and smoking studies fail to take into account these factors. Health is also largely dependent on lifestyle, another factor studies usually don’t consider. Smoking might be the only unhealthy habit in which a person indulges. Someone might develop lung cancer whether or not they smoke; it depends on when and if the cancer cells perk up and decide to become active. Granted, if you are predisposed to lung cancer, then it’s probably not a good idea to stimulate those cells with tobacco. If you’ve had a heart attack, then continuing to smoke is probably a bad idea.

If the government wants to tax things that are unhealthy, then let’s add a big, fat tax on fast food and junk food. In recent years, more people have died from the effects of obesity than from smoking-related illnesses. We all know that fast food and junk food contributes to obesity and other health problems, so let’s tax the hell out of people who indulge in those foods. Moreover, if you’re going to make smokers pay higher insurance rates, then you’d better make the fat people pay higher insurance rates, too, as their high blood pressure, out-of-control cholesterol and heart disease now contribute to rising insurance rates more than smoking-related illnesses.

You could go on and on — taxing alcohol, caffeine products, lawn chemicals, anything that might be unhealthy — until you the tax the fuck out of everyone for everything. Let’s see how fair everyone thinks that is.

I’ve listened to a bunch of nonsmokers praise increasing the tobacco tax as a great way to motivate people to stop smoking. What are you going to do if we all quit? That’s a lot of tax money you’ll be losing, and you know the government is going to get that money from somewhere — probably you. And then you’ll become outraged that you have to pay for the children’s health coverage program.

If you’re truly so stoked about the possibility of millions of people giving up tobacco, then why don’t you insist that our tobacco tax money be invested in smoking cessation programs? Oh. Because then your taxes would be increased to pay for the social programs for which I currently pay.

A main reason that smokers keep coming under fire socially and financially is that we have been persecuted to the point that most of us are afraid to speak up. We have been told over and over that smoking is rude and unhealthy, and at some point we have come to subconsciously believe this, apologizing for our “dirty” habit. Rather than standing up as a group and saying, “Hey, since when is smoking illegal? Smoking is my constitutional right! Go tax someone else! Nonsmokers can go to nonsmoking establishments if my smoking bothers them!” we sit back and let the federal, local and state governments increase our taxes, ban us from public places and use our tax money for programs completely unrelated to us.

The U.S. Constitution states that we all have the right to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Well, smoking makes me happy, and when I’m happy the people around me are happy. If the government truly believes that cigarettes are so unhealthy and disease-causing, then ban tobacco outright and fully. Illegalize it. But the government will never do that because our taxes are so necessary.

It’s high time smokers band together and stand up to those infringing upon our rights and using us to pay for public programs. Smoking is our right, and if you are benefitting from our taxes, then we have the right to tell you to go fuck yourself when you complain about smoking. When a state or city tries to ban smoking in restaurants and bars, smokers should be standing up and fighting against such attempts. Until then, we are resigned to alienation.

Week of the Grody Keyboards

2009-03-13T14:06:00.014-05:00

I can’t stand gross keyboards. I am more persnickety about cleaning my keyboard than most people; I think it’s germy and gross to have a dirty keyboard because your hands are all over it all day. My keyboard typically attracts cat hair and errant bits of cigarette ash, and I clean it weekly to remove the scuzziness. If you pop out my keys, the board beneath is pristine because I don’t give dirt a chance to turn into gunk under there. Essentially, I turn OCD when it comes to keyboards.

So imagine my disgust when I entered the cubicle at my part-time temp gig on Wednesday to find this guy’s keyboard absolutely foul. It made me wrinkle my nose, and I swear I could smell the grossness. There were food particles, dust and unidentifiable chunks. It looked like someone barfed on it. And you know that if a keyboard is that disgusting from the top it’s even worse under the keys. He probably had mold growing under there.

As one of the other copywriters was showing me around the company’s intranet and the Web site’s back end, she noticed how gross the keyboard was, deemed it unusable and went in search of another one. The one she found was better (no food, just dust), so I am thankful to her for that.

My next experience with a grody keyboard came this morning. Although I have a spare wired keyboard in case my wireless Apple keyboard loses its pairing code, the one I have is a PC keyboard. It works fine, unless you need to use the command or option keys, which are Apple proprietary keys.

Resetting my computer’s PRAM requires both the command and option keys right at startup. Well, it turns out that because of the lag with Bluetooth, I can’t use my wireless keyboard to reset the PRAM, and because the PC keyboard doesn’t have the command and option keys, I can’t use it to reset the PRAM, either. So to zap the PRAM, I need an Apple wired keyboard. I found one for $1 on ebay (although shipping was $14), so I ordered it.

It arrived just a day or two later, which made me happy. Then I tried it out this morning to be sure all the keys worked. Well, the “s” key didn't work, which cracked up my sister when I was IMing her, “Can you gue which key on thi keyboard doen’t work?” and answering her questions with "Ye." Also, the space bar stuck and I had to bang on it to space. So I popped off the “s” and the space bar to see if there was something causing the problems.

Holy mother of god.

That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. I nearly barfed. The space bar had fur all over the bottom of it, and the entire board beneath the keys was furry. (Evidently a bent staple under the “s” key was causing the problem with that key.) So I armed myself with Q-Tips, paper towel and rubbing alcohol and set to work. (I wonder if you can use vodka in place of rubbing alcohol.)

I pretty much gagged the whole time. I had to scrub to remove the gunk, breaking Q-Tips in half. Larger keys have a little metal u-bar attached to the bottom of the key, and those things were covered in fur and had to be removed and scrubbed. The Q-Tips were black; not yucky dirt brown — black. I had to clean that keyboard because there was no way I could use it knowing all that germ-ridden gunk was underneath.

So three dozen Q-tips and a shot of rubbing alcohol later, the keyboard is clean, the PRAM is reset and, much to my sister’s chagrin, the “s” key now works. I still have to bang on the space bar, but that seems to be a design issue, as the keyboard is from one of Apple’s original blueberry iMacs.

Bashing the Millennial Baby Boom

2009-02-26T14:59:00.012-06:00

Something is wrong with our society that we continually glamorize people who choose out-of-control reproduction as a way of life. It’s a mystery to me why squirting out kids by the dozen is a reason for celebrity. Haven’t these people heard of overpopulation? Yet they selfishly choose to have more and more kids, and then they want the public to support them or suffer through their television shows.

The most recent example of this epidemic baby-making is Nadya Suleman, the woman who recently gave birth to octuplets while she had six other kids at home. But I’ll get to her later. First, I want to explore some history of these people and how the media has cast them as heroes.

It all started a few years ago when young Hollywood stars made the “baby bump” a fashion statement, baring it for all to see. Maybe it truly started when Vanity Fair put a naked and very pregnant Demi Moore on the cover. Nevetheless, young Hollywood made pregnancy and motherhood fashionable. Around this time, Angelina Jolie became obsessed with amassing children from around the world. She hooked up with Brad Pitt, and they added their own kids to the collection.

I don’t have a problem with Jolie and Pitt’s decisions to have a horde of children because they can afford to support and care for their children in the best possible ways. If those kids all want to go to college, their parents can afford to send them to any university in the world. Moreover, the Jolie-Pitts are adopting unwanted, homeless children from around the world. Although this is a bizarre way of collecting children and world cultures, I suspect their hearts are in the right place.

Unfortunately, Jolie and Pitt have inspired Main Street America to follow in their footsteps — yet Main Street couples don’t have two parents making millions of dollars starring in movies.

That’s OK, though. Give birth to too many kids and TLC will give you your own TV show. This is the most ridiculous programming on television, and there’s some pretty awful programming out there.

Consider, for example, “Jon & Kate Plus Ei8ht.” What a stupid show and a waste of good airtime. Who the fuck cares about these people except their friends and relatives? The show is like a reality TV blog. They have all these kids thanks to artificial fertility methods and refusal to selectively reduce the number of fetuses in multiple situations. And why do they get this show? Because they have too many kids by their own doing. Fate didn’t hand them twins and sextuplets. No, they did it themselves. Even worse, this is consistently one of TLC’s highest rated shows, further proving my assertion that Americans wouldn’t know good TV if it bit them in the ass.

Another example, also from TLC, is the Duggar family in Arkansas. They just had their 18th kid. So now you get a TV show because you refuse to be responsible and use birth control?

I see these shows as a great method of birth control themselves. Who cares about the daily lives of Jon and Kate Gosselin or the Duggars? Frankly, watching their struggles raising their broods doesn’t make me feel sorry for them; it makes me realize they are stupid. Oh, and the Gosselins just added a couple puppies to their already overflowing household. That was a brilliant idea. Because the constant, incessant screaming of their eight children isn’t enough. Let’s add some barking and puppy shit to the mix.

Perhaps Jolie and Pitt, the Gosselins, and the Duggars were the inspiration for Nadya Suleman — a single mother with six children, all conceived via invitro fertilization — to hit the fertility clinic one more time and have all six of her stored embryos implanted. All the embryos were successful, and two of the embryos even split into twins, thus creating eight babies in her womb.

The responsible thing would have been to stop at six. Or perhaps to have the standard two or three embryos implanted for a woman of her age, 33. Or even to selectively reduce the number of fetuses once she found out how many were in there. But Suleman completely refused any iota of responsibility and carried all eight fetuses.

People across the country are bashing Suleman, and although she’s throwing herself one big pity party, she deserves to be bashed. Hard.

Jon Gosselin is an IT professional in the governor’s office, and Kate Gosselin has written a couple crappy books about parenting. The Duggars are both real estate agents. Plus, both the Gosselins and Duggars are paid for their TLC shows. Suleman, however, has no job, and she sponges off her parents and continues to go to school so she can use her student loans to support all her kids.

This woman definitely falls into the loser category. Her father is in Iraq working to make money to support Suleman and her 14 kids. Her mother is exhausted from taking care of her 14 grandchildren. And all the while, Suleman just attends some classes to keep that student loan money coming in.

She was receiving disability payments from a work injury for a few years but claims those payments stopped. She does, however, continue to receive disability payments for three of her original six children — two are autistic and one is supposedly ADHD — so that might help pay a bill or two.

Suleman claims that she is not “crazy” or obsessed and that she is indeed responsible. I beg to differ. Read her “Dateline” interview with Ann Curry. She’s a nutjob searching for love and expecting her herd of children to provide it. Obviously she doesn’t realize that they might love her for the first 10 years or so, then they will hate her when they become teenagers, then they might start loving her when they’re in their 20s.

And how is burdening her aging parents with her children’s care and finances responsible? Remember, Suleman made the decision to have every one of these children. She found a sperm donor friend and conceived all 14 kids through IVF.

She also claims she is a wonderful mother. She currently lives in a three-bedroom house that her parents own and which is likely to be foreclosed on in May. She plans to move into a four-bedroom home. Four and five kids per room will be nice and comfortable, I’m sure.

Suleman has this wild idea that once she’s finished ~~supporting herself with student loans~~ school and begins working — as a counselor, no less — she will be able to pay back her $50,000 in current debt and comfortably raise her 14 children. This woman is seriously delusional.

In the meantime, Suleman's personal Web site provides visitors no less than three places to send her donations via credit card and PayPal. Honey, you made your bed, now lie in it.

It’s time for the media and TV networks to stop glamorizing serial pregnancies. This isn’t a cool trend, and popularizing it is sending the wrong message to our teenage girls and young women. Fine, be like Brangelina — if you have their kind of money to support and care for all those kids. In the meantime, please cancel the ridiculous “Jon & Kate Plus Ei8ht” and any other programming about the Duggars. These are not the role models we need for the future of our youths and our already overpopulated planet.

Update, 3 March 2009: In another trademark burst of irresponsibility, Suleman recently turned down free around-the-clock care for her 14 children offered by the nonprofit group Angels in Waiting. Evidently, Suleman is keen for a reality TV show of her own, and Angels in Waiting wants no part of a reality show because of the risk of infection the babies might suffer from all the camera equipment and crews.

Because becoming a reality TV star is much more important than ensuring that your 14 children are well cared for.

Employers Are Playing Dirty

2009-02-15T20:06:00.009-06:00

I realized this week that I have been unemployed for nearly five months. I never dreamed I would be searching for a job for five months. When I was laid off in the past, I found another job right away.

Alas, I am feeling the pinch of the lousy economy. Thankfully, I’ve always been a good saver, so I am able to rely on my savings account to pay the bills that freelance isn’t covering. It physically pains me every time I take money from my savings account, but I suppose that’s what it’s there for.

I was searching the job boards daily, but that became disheartening when no new jobs were posted. Now I search them three or four times a week, applying for all the jobs I for which I am qualified. I have preferences, of course: I would prefer not to work in treeless, snotty west Omaha. I would prefer not to drive more than a few miles to a job. I would prefer certain companies over others. In this job market, however, there is no room for preferences. Both companies with which I am interviewing next week are in west Omaha and a 17-mile drive one way. Not my ideal, but right now a steady paycheck and health insurance sounds preferential to the lack of both.

So while I am busting my ass to find a job and making concessions on things I really don’t want to, I am becoming frustrated by the fact that companies are taking advantage of the lousy job market to manipulate job seekers.

A couple months ago I noticed that companies are offering far less money today than they did a year ago for the same jobs. A job that would have paid $50,000 if you applied for it a year ago today pays $40,000 or less. Companies obviously recognize the desperation of the unemployed to find a steady paycheck, and they are using it to their advantage by offering less pay.

How shitty is that. They get cheap labor and the CEO gets a nice fat multimillion-dollar bonus. To me, this practice is using another person’s misfortune to your advantage. I imagine a bunch of executives and HR people sitting around in conference rooms, singing the blessings of the awful economy because it’s putting more money in their pockets. “Jobless, suckers!” they laugh wickedly. “We can offer you a pittance because you need a job so bad! And we’re going to make you jump through lots and lots of hoops to get this shitty-paying job! Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

The hoops include endless numbers of interviews, ridiculous interview questions and taking their sweet time to tell a candidate they’ve been rejected. The hoops also include requiring applicants to possess the skills necessary to perform two different jobs. Evidently, companies think this job market means a two-for-one deal for them: one employee performs the job of two.

Because marketing is an area companies cut in order to save money, we marketing professionals are getting the shaft in this job market. I’ve seen many postings for “marketing specialist,” my former job title, that require applicants to have writing and editing skills as well as graphic design experience. In most companies, the marketing specialist writes and edits brochures and such, and a graphic designer lays out the text.

Now companies want the marketing specialist to do it all. This is beyond multitasking. Frankly, I don’t know anyone who does it all. I know people who write and edit, and I know graphic designers. I wonder if these companies are actually finding candidates who can do both well. I did graphic design years ago, but my experience with Adobe Creative Suite, the standard software in the graphic design industry today, consists of making simple text changes that didn’t jack up any of the graphics.

I’m also seeing many, many jobs that blend marketing and sales. Granted, the marketing department works closely with the sales department, but in larger companies the roles are traditionally separate. Now if you want to do marketing, you also have to either be an administrative assistant to the sales department or get out there and sell some product.

Many of the job postings that are solely marketing are part-time positions — with no benefits. One of my interviews next week is for a part-time marketing position. When the company evaluates the position in six months or so, they might make it full time by adding sales lead generation (barf). The other job I’m interviewing for is full time, but it’s marketing part time and administrative assistant tasks the other part.

I do not want to work in sales. With my journalism background, I learned early in my career that salespeople are a pain in the ass, constantly asking for favors, pushing the envelope and crossing lines. I don’t like salespeople in stores, either. Leave me the hell alone and let me shop. If I need your help, I’ll come find you.

During my time working with salespeople at a newspaper, I developed my blank look. It's when my face goes devoid of all expression. My blank look is a warning, really. The salespeople quickly learned that if they pursued an issue with me, the blank look was followed by “That’s not my problem,” “My responsibility is to give my readers an honest review, not propaganda” or “Fuck off.”

(A journalist’s responsibility to readers is to report fairly and honestly. If I write a glowing review of a lousy movie, play, restaurant, etc. just because I don’t want to piss off an advertiser, then I piss off my readers by lying to them. Advertisers are paying for access to my readers. Thus, if my readership declines, then advertisers don’t get their money’s worth. In such a situation, a paper eventually has to reduce its ad rates, which decreases profits.)

To me, salespeople are a necessary evil. Obviously companies need people to sell their products, and these people must be assertive and pushy. Salespeople are a greedy lot; their motivation is money, and you can certainly make a lot of money in sales. They’re schmoozy and they fib to clients. They’re really kind of slimy.

This is not my personality. I don’t want to sell someone a product they don’t need or want. I wouldn’t lie about the product’s functionality. And once a prospect said no, I would quietly go away and never bother them again.

Thus, I have no interest in sales, and it irritates me that companies are blending marketing and sales positions, forcing me to do something I hate in order to do something I love. What a crock of shit.

I resent that companies are using the current economy and job market to their benefit and job seekers’ detriment. It’s unethical to offer candidates less money just because you can because so many people are desperate for a job. It’s unscrupulous to hire one person for a combined job for which you would have hired two people a year ago. We unemployed people have enough troubles and difficulties right now; we don’t need potential employers using and abusing us so the CEO can get an extra few million at the end of the year.

Mind Your Manners

2009-02-03T19:04:00.003-06:00

I went to see CATS last weekend with my sister. Although the show was delightful, also entertaining was the people-watching. Oh, dear Omahans, when will you learn about fashion? We also had the misfortune to sit near some really annoying people, which inspired me to write about a few points of theater etiquette.

My personal favorite of the fashion tragedies was the tall, overweight chick in the electric blue satin ultra miniskirt. That thing just bunched up in all the wrong places. She finished off the outfit with 4-inch heels, which she should have worn around the house before wearing them in public. The poor thing looked like she was about to topple over. She obviously doesn’t wear heels regularly, and man, did it show.

This led my sis and me to count how many women wearing heels could actually walk in them. I wear heels all the time and have since I was 13. I can walk, run, dance and jump in those things and never look like I’m going to topple over. My height is probably in my favor that way. My sis, however, hates to wear heels and knows she looks ridiculous in them, so she doesn’t own a pair. My sis is smart.

I see far too many women wearing heels and looking like amateurs. And a night at the Orpheum in Omaha is when they are all on display.

But I digress. When the Orpheum runs a popular show like CATS, all the amateurs head to downtown Omaha for the big night. You really get all kinds down there, and some obviously only go out in public during these times. These are the morons you want to try to avoid. Unfortunately, they are out en mass and avoiding them is impossible.

We encountered our first taste of bad etiquette when we arrived at our seats. A woman was sitting in my sister’s seat. We double-checked the seat numbers and pointed this out to her and her husband. It seemed they were sitting so they could keep an empty seat between them and the people beside them. However, you can only really do this after everyone is seated — when you’re sure that the people assigned to the seat you’ve stolen are not going to show up. Kind of like on an airplane.

The husband was convinced we were lying, even though my sis showed him her ticket. He dug in his pocket for his ticket while we stood there. His wife finally told him to just move. He did, but he continued search for the ticket. When he found it, he realized his mistake, but he never apologized to my sis.

His wife didn’t seem to want to be there. Before the show started, she mumbled, “Can we just get on with this?” Then at intermission, she said, “Isn’t it over yet?” She also sighed through the entire performance, causing my sis to wonder what the fuck was wrong with her.

One thing that always irritates me at the theater is bobbing heads in front of me. We had two major head-bobbers sitting in front of us. Mine was a woman with poufy hair. She’d tip her head to the right, then to the left, then back to the right, then back to the left. This went on the entire performance and became faster toward the end. Because she kept bobbing her head, I had to bob my head to see around her poufy hair. That means that the person behind me had to bob his head, and the person behind him … you get the idea. I looked at the person in front of Poufy Head to see if maybe he was the instigator of all this head-bobbing nonsense. But his head remained fixed in place. Poufy Head was the villain in this story.

Head-bobbers are really annoying in a theater. I left feeling like I had whiplash. People, keep your damn heads still when you’re in a theater. Nothing is more annoying than trying to see around your fat head as you bob it from side to side. At one point I had to sit on my hands to keep from putting one on each side of her head and telling her to keep it still. Poufy Head became a nuisance to my sis when she decided to rest her head on her husband’s shoulder. Then they had to sit with their heads together. Total pains in the ass.

During intermission the parents of the girl behind us must have bought her a nice CATS t-shirt and memorabilia because after intermission, the girl proceeded to loudly crumble the plastic bag on her lap during the performance. This was exactly in my right ear and my sis’ left ear. My sis whipped around and gave a dirty look. A few minutes later, I did the same. Sis looked back again. I looked back two more times, holding my glare at the girl and her mother. I have a three strikes rule: I will give you a dirty look three times, then I’m going to tell you to put that fucking bag on the floor.

The girl realized that Sis and I were pissed and said to her mother, “Should I put this under my seat?” He mother said, “No, just keep still.” Whatever, lady — you dumbass. But after that the girl did keep the bag pretty still.

While I’m talking about theater etiquette, I should point out that this applies not only to playhouse theaters but also to movie theaters. I’ve been to a few movies in the last year where I was greeted by children or teenagers whooping loudly in the back of the theater, rumpling plastic candy wrappers and bags during the movie, and generally acting stupid. Grow up, you little jerks. Everyone is there to enjoy the movie, not your noise. If I wanted to hear the sounds of children I would have given birth. I didn’t, so I don’t.

I’m going to see Wicked at the Orpheum in May, so I’m sure that will be another great show where I’m surrounded by inconsiderate amateurs.

When Good Shows Get Canceled

2009-01-26T14:24:00.011-06:00

I learned a couple weeks ago that “Pushing Daisies,” one of the best shows on television, is canceled. I’m really tired of great shows getting the ax while some of the worst TV shows in history return season after season. I know it’s not solely the networks’ fault; it’s American TV viewers’ awful taste in entertainment that kills shows like “Pushing Daisies” and “Firefly” and keeps shows that make me gag, like “The Bachelor” and “Big Brother,” on the air.

“Pushing Daisies” (ABC) is an inventive, novel, highly entertaining effort. The premise is that Ned the Pie Maker can bring the dead back to life simply by touching them. However, as Ned learned the hard way when he was a child, if he touches the revived person or animal again, then they are dead for good. Oh, and there’s a caveat: if Ned allows the revived person or animal to live longer than 60 seconds, then someone else dies in order to keep the balance.

For this reason, the sweet Pie Maker was afraid of his “gift” for many years. Then, he had the ingenious idea to use it to make money: he figured that if he could sneak into the morgue, he could bring crime victims back to life for one minute and find out who murdered them. Then he tips off police and wins the reward money for helping solve the crimes.

Things became complex, however, when one of the crime victims was the Pie Maker’s long-lost sweetheart, Charlotte, whom he calls Chuck. After reviving Chuck, the Pie Maker didn’t have the heart to touch her a second time, so the funeral director died (thereby keeping the balance), and Chuck and the Pie Maker have a wonderful romance — except that he can’t touch her or she’ll go back to being dead.

There are so many wonderful characters on “Pushing Daisies,” and the sets are vibrantly colored and fun. The plotlines are comical and fresh, and bringing back the dead people makes for some very funny scenes.

And this show has been cancelled, but “The Bachelor” and “Survivor” are still on the air.

We’ve lost so many great shows after only one or two seasons, yet reality TV perseveres. “Firefly” was a sci-fi western adventure by “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” creator Joss Whedon. Whedon is a genius at bringing to life wonderful characters whom viewers adore, and “Firefly” was no different. This show lasted only one season on FOX, but it has become a cult classic among sci-fi and Whedon fans.

“Dead Like Me” lasted two seasons on Showtime. This dark comedy followed a team of grim reapers, a group of unlikely characters who didn’t quite learn all they were supposed to in life, so now they are learning it in death. In traditional reaper-style, they are also tasked with taking the lives of those whose time has come. The show’s characters are wily and likable, and the premise is dark yet hilarious.

HBO’s “Carnivale” survived almost two seasons. It was a classic tale of the battle between good and evil set in the 1930s dust bowl, and it was mainly set among a traveling carnival with freaks galore. The show has heavy religious and mystical overtones, and two of the key characters are symbolic of the messiah and the antichrist. HBO gave “Carnivale” a quick, half-assed conclusion that left me with questions and thirsty for more episodes.

“Stephen King’s Kingdom Hospital” was another fantastically creative show, and its downfall may have been the network. It aired for one season on ABC, and the network may have just been too mainstream for the quirky show. It might have fared better on FOX or a cable network. I became interested in “Kingdom Hospital” because I’m a fan of both Stephen King and Richard Dooling, an Omaha author who collaborated with King on the project as a writer and producer. The show was shadowy and mysterious, with a unique brand of dark humor. (One of my favorite scenes was when a headless guy was looking for his head as the Basement Jaxx song “Where’s Your Head At” played.) It was this humor that made “Kingdom Hospital” so novel. Yes, the show was peculiar, but if you rode with it, it had so much to offer.

Reality TV has ruined everything. Viewers are content to watch whatever crap a network airs as long it’s a reality show. They have become so addicted to finding out who gets evicted from the Big Brother House or who gets booted from the island or who the bachelor/bachelorette is making out with that they evidently fail to realize the stupidity of what they are watching.

Reality TV is nothing but voyeuristic banality. It’s not creative, it’s not inventive, it doesn’t have a plot except that someone will win some money. And everyone on reality TV is an idiot who can’t get along with anyone else. I don’t call that entertaining; I call it irritating.

And “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette” — do the contestants or viewers honestly think that lasting love is to be found with mindless morons on television? Lust, maybe, but certainly not love. I don’t see why anyone would find these shows interesting to begin with, and I can't understand the point of continuing to watch them season after season.

What I find disheartening is that these shows remain on the air because millions of people are watching them every week. In the meantime, truly creative, entertaining shows are canceled to make more room for shows like “The Biggest Loser” and “COPS.” Apparently the American public is that stupid. How many fat people do you want to watch sweat uncontrollably then cry because they’re still fat and really want a Twinkie? How many drunk people can you stand to watch see arrested on “COPS”? These shows don’t have anything fresh or innovative about them. It’s the same crap over and over every season.

Is it watching the common man and woman on TV? Is that what attracts viewers to reality TV? Because frankly, these shows serve only to display how ridiculous and unintelligent the common man and woman are. I don’t find that entertaining; I find it sad and annoying — although admittedly I have a very low tolerance for stupid people.

“Pushing Daisies” is canceled in its second season, but “Deal or No Deal” is gathering ratings by the masses. Reality TV has spawned the second dawning of game-show TV. Game shows are OK — if they require skill or intelligence. But “Deal or No Deal” requires no skill, no intelligence. Contestants only have to call off numbers and hope that case is the one they want. When the banker calls, the greedy ones shout, “no deal!” while the needy ones proclaim, “deal.” That sure takes talent. If you must know the outcome, just watch the last five minutes of the show and save yourself the pain of watching the rest of it.

I’m disappointed in the American TV-viewing public. I’m frustrated that people are content entertain themselves with the least stimulating shows on television. I’m irked that great shows are canceled to make room for banal TV. Americans should have higher standards for television. We should be smarter than “Wife Swap” and “The Real World.”

Are Single-Sex Schools the Answer to America’s Educational Crisis?

2009-01-24T20:13:00.011-06:00

I had a drink last night with a friend who is getting married in May. At 30, she’s been eager to have a baby for at least a year, and she wants to get on with the baby-making right after her wedding. Our conversation soon turned to how her kids will attend private school, something she has always said.

I assumed she wanted this because she thinks private schools offer a better education. However, I was surprised when she said that her children would specifically attend single-sex schools.

“Why single-sex schools?” I asked.

“Because I have the confidence I have today because I went to a single-sex school,” she said.

Most single-sex schools are private schools, and most people I know who attended private schools went for their entire school or high-school careers. My friend, however, went to both public and private high schools, and this gave her the opportunity to see differences beyond education.

She does believe that private schools offer better education and better prepare students for college. However, the social differences between her public co-ed school and her single-sex private school are a main motivation for seeking this education for her children.

She said that when she went to public school, boys were a huge distraction to all the girls, including her. She spent nearly two hours every morning getting ready for school, and she, like most high school girls, had to look perfect every day. For the boys, of course. In public school, she also did things to attract boys or to fall in with a certain boy’s crowd, including skipping class, drinking and smoking pot.

When she transferred to a single-sex private school, she rolled out of bed, threw on her uniform, ran a brush through her hair and went to school. There were no boys to look perfect or stylish for. Rather than focusing on how she looked, she focused on her classes. Rather than competing with her classmates for the attention of boys, she competed with them for grades. Rather than flirting with the hot guy in English class, she paid attention to what the teacher said. And rather than obsessing with her friends whether the boy she liked liked her back, she obsessed about the 10-page paper that was due.

Moreover, she didn’t skip class, drink or smoke pot to make the cool boys like her. There were no boys to impress. (This is not to say that students of single-sex schools don’t do those things, they just do them less because they aren’t trying to impress the opposite sex.)

My friend also said that her private school helped her relate to boys without feeling so much pressure to have sex with them. She and her classmates looked forward to the nights when the private boys’ school had football games and the schools would come together in the bleachers. Because they didn’t see the boys every day, they were more likely to talk to them at these events rather than stay insulated in all-girl groups. They were more likely to build friendships with a wide variety of boys rather than seeking the attention of just the “popular” boys.

I thought about these things as she was talking and again later. I thought of all the social pressures that would have been alleviated in high school if I’d gone to a single-sex high school. I thought about how many years it’s taken me to become comfortable enough in my own skin to go to the grocery store with my hair pulled up and no makeup on my face. In my 20s, I would have fixed my hair and put on makeup just to go pick up a gallon of milk. My friend is five years younger than me, and in the seven years I’ve known her, she has never been afraid to go out to lunch or to the store — or even to work — with her hair pulled up and no makeup on her face.

I look at my sister, who’s the same age as my friend, and I can’t remember the last time I saw her without makeup. Maybe two or three times in the last 15 years. Even when her job requires her to go to work at 3:30 a.m., she puts on makeup.

How I envy those private schoolgirls who never felt the pressure to make themselves up to go to school — and in turn saved hours in the morning. As adults, they go from the gym to lunch without feeling like they have to get all made up in between.

I also think about how much more focused I could have been in school had there not been the distraction of boys in every class. I wouldn’t have felt so afraid to speak up and show my intelligence (because boys don’t like smart girls). I wouldn’t have been so sensitive about my weight or how I looked. Maybe I never would have become anorexic or bulimic. Take the opposite sex out of the equation, and you are unafraid to be yourself.

A keen sense of self and the resulting confidence may be one of the greatest benefits of attending a single-sex school. Sure, private schools generally have tougher curricula than public schools and better prepare students for college, but perhaps one reason students at single-sex private schools outperform students at public schools is that they are not distracted by the opposite sex and the desire to attract them on a daily basis. In fact, after researching the subject, I’m not so sure it’s that some private schools have curricula that much better than public schools; I’m wondering if single-sex classrooms are the key to better education and higher test scores.

The National Association for Single Sex Public Education, believes there is educational and social value in single-sex education and promotes single-sex public schools. In fact, single-sex public schools exist in Deland, Fla., Foley, Ala., Springfield, Ill., and Waterloo, Iowa.

In June 2005, Cambridge University released the results of a four-year, 50-school study in gender differences in education. The results of the study showed that single-sex classrooms significantly increased both boys’ and girls’ performance. Moreover, boys’ performance in English, drama and foreign language was greatly boosted, and girls’ performance in math and science was greatly improved.

NASSPE research also shows that boys in single-sex schools are more than twice as likely to study “softer” subjects like foreign language, art, music and drama, and girls in single-sex schools are more likely to study “masculine” subjects like math, computer sciences and physics. Single-sex schools enable students to transcend gender bias and explore subjects that genuinely interest them, producing more well-rounded students.

Moreover, Stetson University in Florida recently performed a three-year pilot project that compared single-sex and co-ed public school classrooms teaching the same curriculum. Students in single-sex classrooms scored significantly higher on the Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test than students in co-ed classrooms: 37 percent of boys and 59 percent of girls in co-ed classes scored proficient; whereas 86 percent of boys and 75 percent of girls in single-sex classes scored proficient.

Studies on single-sex schools have been conducted in the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, Jaimaica, Iceland and Kenya — all with similar results: single-sex schools improve grades and test scores and encourage students to challenge themselves by taking classes they wouldn’t choose in co-ed schools.

NASSPE also states that teen pregnancy is significantly lower among students who attend single-sex schools than those who attend co-ed schools: “At a single-sex school, even if you do have a boyfriend, your social network at school is likely to be separate from your boyfriend’s group of friends. So, it’s easier to say no. You have more autonomy over your sexual decision-making. It’s easier to contemplate life without the boyfriend.”

The bottom line, the NASSPE says, is that even though single-sex schoolgirls have as many relationships as co-ed schoolgirls, “single-sex school[girls] are more in control, have more autonomy in those relationships, and — as one result — are much less likely to experience an unwanted pregnancy.”

According to Dr. Leonard Sax, 48, a family physician turned founder and executive director of the NASSPE, single-sex classrooms are also beneficial because boys and girls learn differently. Sax goes so far as to suggest that boys and girls should have different lighting and temperatures in their classrooms (cooler for boys and warmer for girls on both counts). In a March 2008 article in the New York Times, Sax said that “boys don’t hear as well as girls, which means that an instructor needs to speak louder in order for the boys in the room to hear her; and that boys’ visual systems are better at seeing action, while girls are better at seeing the nuance of color and texture.”

Opponents of single-sex schools, including the ACLU, contend that single-sex schools violate Title IX of the 1972 Education Amendment, which bans sex discrimination in public education. These opponents claim that single-sex schools are sexist, violate civil rights, reinforce gender stereotypes, and offer unequal programs for boys and girls.

Because co-ed schools don’t have any of those problems.

Maybe single-sex education isn’t a magical solution for improving our country’s schools. Nevertheless, our educational system is in crisis, falling embarrassingly below the education systems in other countries. If single-sex public schools can improve our country’s education, then they are certainly worth exploring.

I Don’t Need Fake Friends

2009-01-16T19:37:00.011-06:00

This week, Slate.com posted a piece about the virtues of social networking sites (“You Have No Friends” by Farhad Manjoo). The article sings the praises of sites like Facebook and MySpace and essentially calls the rest of us losers for refusing to succumb to the social network site rage.

I’ve been thinking about social networking sites lately because I am finding that employers now encourage participation in these sites of so little value. I have been on an interview or two with companies looking for candidates experienced with these sites. Furthermore, my fellow laid-off co-workers are also discovering that employers want employees who are well-versed in social networking sites.

In fact, I’m pretty sure that I was rejected for a job because I unknowingly offended the business owner during the interview. He asked why I didn’t participate on social networking sites, and I said, “Because they’re cheesy and fake. They’re just not me.” After the interview, I googled the guy’s name and found him on MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and some lesser-known networking sites. Whoops.

I’m familiar with social networking sites because I have several friends who are active on them, and because I occasionally like to lurk on the sites. I’ve even signed up with bogus names just so I can lurk for an hour or so. I also understand why someone in my field (writing and marketing) should be familiar with social networking sites: like it or not, the masses are joining them, and these sites have become a way to connect with customers.

I, however, find social networking sites creepy, ridiculous and a waste of time. If I want to communicate with friends, I’ll call them, meet them for lunch, drop them an e-mail, maybe even text them once in a while. I don’t want them bugging me with Twitter messages.

You Can Be a Writer, Too
Blogs, another type of social networking, have become the place for people with nothing of value to say to post whiny drivel and call themselves writers. The majority of these people have no business calling themselves writers. Generally, the only person who cares about the personal stuff you post on your blog is you because it’s your life. Sure, I see value in using an invitation-only blog to maintain a connection with close friends and family members who are dispersed among states or continents. I’ve also found some great columnist-style bloggers. Unfortunately, most blogs are just online diaries. And diaries should be kept under lock and key.

The problem with social networking sites and blogs is that anyone can have one. No one monitors whether your content is worth reading. No one edits your words so you don’t sound like an idiot. No one checks your facts to see whether you got the story right. And don’t even get me started on the damage these sites have done to proper grammar in today’s society.

Down With MySpace
No one has ever been able to explain to me the value of having MySpace friends whom you will never meet. Those aren’t friends. They might be fans if you have a band or if you’re a celebrity (a real celebrity, not just a celebrity in your own mind because you have 8,000 MySpace friends).

Consider this: If you met someone named Jack at a party tonight, would you talk about him tomorrow using the words, “My friend Jack …”? Not likely, unless you really are that desperate for friends. You probably wouldn’t call Jack your friend until you hung out with him a few times and got to know him better. So why are people so eager to call people they find on MySpace “friends”?

When I lurk on MySpace, I am amazed at how much information is openly available about people (the creepy factor). Maybe I’m especially introverted or private, but I don’t want to advertise my life on the Internet. It eliminates all sense of mystery about a person. Unless that person is totally lying about him/herself, and then that’s more mystery than feels safe.

My early forays into social networking sites occurred when I looked up an ex-boyfriend on MySpace several years ago. From his MySpace page, I learned he was still dating the chick he got together with after we broke up, and from her MySpace page I learned all about the crumbling of their relationship. After their breakup, I could identify every chick my ex was sleeping with based on their posts to his MySpace page. To me, that is all information way too private to be posted on the Internet (although it was indeed entertaining for me).

Admittedly, I recently opened a MySpace account to promote “Living in a Sordid World.” You won’t find personal information about me there, though. Oh, sure, music I like or books I enjoy — but I don’t care who knows those things. I started “Living in a Sordid World” because I am a writer, and someday I would like it to become a syndicated column — and that requires people to read it. I also have standards: I write about timely topics that make people think, examine their lives and society, and maybe take action. I never sit down and burp up a column without researching the topic. As a former journalist, I conduct research for these blog postings to ensure that I provide readers with accurate information.

How many bloggers do you know who do that?

Facebook: The Eighth Largest Country in the World
In his article on Slate.com, Manjoo says that Facebook has just added its 150-millionth member, and he quotes Mark Zuckerberg, the founder and CEO of Facebook: “If Facebook were a country, it would be the eighth most populated in the world, just ahead of Japan, Russia and Nigeria.”

After I got tired of one friend sending me Facebook invitations, I signed up. What a nuisance that was. I really don’t want my friends bugging me with e-mails asking me to take the movie quiz on Facebook so we can see how much alike we are. I also don’t need virtual hugs, kisses or other nonsense that Facebook offers. That’s dumb. Those are things that are fun when you’re 15, if you were lame when you were 15. I closed that account and never looked back.

Manjoo also discusses how Facebook is a great way to reconnect with school friends and old flames. Maybe some people feel the need for this, but I certainly don’t. I went to three high schools in three different states, and I have never felt the desire to reconnect with old friends. Likewise, ex-lovers are ex for a reason. And although I definitely experience Schadenfreude when it comes to most of my exes, I like that to be a one-way street: I don’t want them reading and enjoying my misfortunes.

If you’re a radio talk show host, your fans probably want to connect with you on a social networking site. They want to know that you’re hip. However, if you’re my financial advisor, I don’t want to find your cutesy MySpace page. I don’t want you to be hip; I want you to be serious about my money and investments. If you’re my lawyer, I don’t want to see all your family and friends posting goofy shit on your Facebook page; I want you to be serious about my legal needs.

Link With Other Professionals
Financial advisors and lawyers needn’t feel left out, though; LinkedIn provides a networking site for business professionals. Now, LinkedIn is a site in which I can actually find value. It is designed for professional networking, so you can interact with peers in your industry who can offer valuable career and industry advice.

I received an invitation to join LinkedIn about four years ago. I joined, but I wasn’t active with it, other than to accept connection invitations, until I was laid off in September. If you’re looking for a job, then LinkedIn connections are a good place to start. Moreover, several articles have been published touting how recruiters rely on LinkedIn to find candidates for jobs.

On LinkedIn, you can post your résumé, you can keep in touch with current and former co-workers, and you can ask your connections to write recommendations for you. Again, valuable to recruiters when they want an overall view of a potential employee. In fact, knowing that recruiters are using LinkedIn, I’ve included my LinkedIn link on my resume. They can look up my recommendations and get a good idea of the kind of employee I am before they meet me, which may make me stand out from other candidates.

With today’s tough job market, a resource like LinkedIn can determine whether you are called for an interview. LinkedIn doesn’t provide a place to post personal information or photos of you and your kids or cat, and people can’t post open comments on your LinkedIn page. If someone wants to contact you through LinkedIn, s/he can do so through e-mail, and then only after you have accepted the person as a connection. LinkedIn also offers targeted special interest and professional groups, for example a SIG for marketers or one for editors. These can also be beneficial in one’s job and job search.

I also like LinkedIn because communications come through my e-mail, so I don’t have to check the site 10 times a day to see if someone is trying to contact me. I find Twitter, Facebook and MySpace to be epic time wasters, which is why I’m surprised so many businesses encourage employee activity on such sites.

Mindless Waste of Time
I have one friend whose former employer blocked MySpace from her PC because he thought she was spending too much time on it. And she probably was; any time I talked to her while she was at work she said she was on MySpace.

I have other friends who waste hours of their workdays on Facebook and MySpace (evidently these sites are like tattoos; one leads to two leads to three …). For years another friend has been anti-social-networking sites; then with shame in his voice and his eyes cast down, he admitted that he joined one last week. His wife got him into it.

“But it’s such a time waster!” I said of Facebook.

“I know,” he said shaking his head. “It’s really bad how much time I spend on it when I should be working.”

Frankly, I can find ways to waste time that actually stimulate my mind. Read, watch a movie, play a video game — pretty much anything is more stimulating and beneficial than staring at your Facebook page waiting for your buds to log on and post a comment.