-Raw
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
To Discovery!
First their was Ponce De Leon. And Columbus. Now, there's my friend Shelley.
While wandering aimlessly around her house last night, she discovered something she had never seen before- a closet. One may wonder why such a large, obvious object had never gone noticed, especially given that Shelley has lived in her place for nearly a year.
But discovery has a certain prestige, and there is no use diminishing the power of new real estate. I am told the closet will be used to "store things"- a brilliant idea from Miss Shelley. I just hope she doesn't bring small pox to whoever currently lives there.
-Dave
While wandering aimlessly around her house last night, she discovered something she had never seen before- a closet. One may wonder why such a large, obvious object had never gone noticed, especially given that Shelley has lived in her place for nearly a year.
But discovery has a certain prestige, and there is no use diminishing the power of new real estate. I am told the closet will be used to "store things"- a brilliant idea from Miss Shelley. I just hope she doesn't bring small pox to whoever currently lives there.
-Dave
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sabotage
I got a really awkward look today at work. It was one of those looks that makes you check to see if your fly is open, or comb your hand across your head to see if someone put something in your hair. It was riddled with uncertainty and laced with disappointment and anger. It was a pretty powerful look.
And for the longest time, I couldn't figure out why the attorney had singled me out as the recipient of his burning gaze. I've been fairly productive this week- which is to say that I have completed all of the menial tasks that I have received and still managed to do atleast two crossword puzzles each day. I've been happy and excited too- I'm going to visit Madison this weekend for the first time in more than a year. And I've been looking pretty sharp- finally decided to shave and wear some of the shirts that I got for my birthday. Completely undeserving of awkward attention.
But then it hit me.
I left my book in plain view on my desk and the attorney had spotted it. This may not seem out of the ordinary, but in this place it is far from it...
Keep in mind that I work at a law firm that specializes in construction law. This means whenever there are disputes between developers, owners, contractors, subcontractors, vendors, and suppliers, our firm arrives on the scene to rake in some profit. And while many other sectors of the economy have slowed down, construction law has not- almost everyone is defaulting on their contracts or somehow offending the parties they are working for.
So when the attorney spotted the shiny cover of "The Monkey Wrench Gang" on my desk, he probably was taken aback.
For those of you unfamiliar with Edward Abbey and his most famous book, it basically tells the story of 4 unlikely partners who drive around the American West destroying roads, bridges, and construction equipment. The characters, like Abbey, are notoriously resentful of excessive development (or really any development for that matter) and band together with bolt cutters, wrenches, gas cans, and chainsaws to upend construction efforts. On the first page of the book, Abbey offers a brief definition of sabotage: "n. [Fr.< sabot, wooden shoe + -AGE: from damage done to machinery by sabots].
Might as well be reading the Communist Manifesto in Joseph McCarthy's office.
-Dave
And for the longest time, I couldn't figure out why the attorney had singled me out as the recipient of his burning gaze. I've been fairly productive this week- which is to say that I have completed all of the menial tasks that I have received and still managed to do atleast two crossword puzzles each day. I've been happy and excited too- I'm going to visit Madison this weekend for the first time in more than a year. And I've been looking pretty sharp- finally decided to shave and wear some of the shirts that I got for my birthday. Completely undeserving of awkward attention.
But then it hit me.
I left my book in plain view on my desk and the attorney had spotted it. This may not seem out of the ordinary, but in this place it is far from it...
Keep in mind that I work at a law firm that specializes in construction law. This means whenever there are disputes between developers, owners, contractors, subcontractors, vendors, and suppliers, our firm arrives on the scene to rake in some profit. And while many other sectors of the economy have slowed down, construction law has not- almost everyone is defaulting on their contracts or somehow offending the parties they are working for.
So when the attorney spotted the shiny cover of "The Monkey Wrench Gang" on my desk, he probably was taken aback.
For those of you unfamiliar with Edward Abbey and his most famous book, it basically tells the story of 4 unlikely partners who drive around the American West destroying roads, bridges, and construction equipment. The characters, like Abbey, are notoriously resentful of excessive development (or really any development for that matter) and band together with bolt cutters, wrenches, gas cans, and chainsaws to upend construction efforts. On the first page of the book, Abbey offers a brief definition of sabotage: "n. [Fr.< sabot, wooden shoe + -AGE: from damage done to machinery by sabots].
Might as well be reading the Communist Manifesto in Joseph McCarthy's office.
-Dave
Monday, August 17, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
SOCIALIST!!!
If you have been paying attention to the news lately, you’ve probably seen coverage of the healthcare town hall meetings that are taking the country by storm.
And that may not be such a bad idiom to use. Massive throngs of people, many of them elderly, are converging on auditoriums all over the country to make sure their opinions about healthcare reform are heard. The Congressmen who are hosting many of these town hall meetings are being greeted with boos, screams, enraged accusations, and the deafening hum of oxygen machines. Many of these gatherings have been less than civil, with frequent outbursts of anger stinking of regurgitated talking points from Fox News anchors and republican officials. In weather parlance, its been a perfect storm of misinformation, senility, and anger.
So when I got an email notifying me about a local town hall meeting with Democratic Congressman David Price, I knew I had to go.
The meeting was held in the stuffy auditorium on NC-Central University’s campus- a historically black college that I am quite certain has never seen so many old and white people parading around. My brother and I arrived an hour early and got decent seats about 100 feet from the stage. We scanned the audience to find potential trouble makers- the moustached man a few rows back with a US Marine Corps hat and a hand-written sign that read “Liberty or Death”, the white-haired gentleman in the center section scratching out notes on the back of an envelope, the motorcycle couple up front with matching mullets and tightly-crossed arms.
Apparently, lots of people had seen the news reports. The auditorium quickly filled to capacity and beyond, with camera flashes and video camera lights blinking in almost every row. Local news outlets and reporters were on the scene, yearning for a chance to capture someone shouting “socialist” or accusing Rep. Price of wanting to kill old people. The anticipation of conflict was certainly palpable.
In those types of situations, I am always tempted to do something rediculous and completely out of left field. But I decided to let other people do that for me.
The emcee of the event began the evening by asking everyone to rise and recite the pledge of allegiance. We then observed a moment of silence for those who “were unable to join us tonight.” Im assuming that he wasn’t referring to the millions of other Americans who were probably watching reruns of CSI on their couch. Either way, it was a little strange to bang the drums of patriotism and recite oaths just to talk about healthcare. Once everyone felt happy and tingly on the inside, we started.
The first outburst came about 4 minutes in. One of the speakers on the panel was talking about the absurdity that Bernie Madoff will be receiving healthcare in his jail cell courtesy of the US government, but that almost 50 million hard working Americans do not have access to the same resources.
“I came here to talk to my congressmen, not to be lectured by some mo-ron!”
Ironically, the disgruntled shouter stormed out of the building, despite the fact that Rep. Price was twiddling his thumbs queued up to speak next.
There were several more outbursts and boos as the evening went on- mostly reacting to the possibility of elderly people being marched out of their retirement homes to face a government-sponsored firing squad. But many of them were hushed and suppressed by the eloquence of Mr. Price and the other speakers on the panel (no, not a death panel). The folks who lined up on the yelling side of the aisle were drowned out by the other participants who actually had things to say. I suppose its pretty easy to get riled up watching Sean Hannity or Glen Beck yak about healthcare on tv, but much harder to translate these unintelligible sentence fragments when faced with an intelligent opposition.
My favorite outburst came towards the end of the evening, when another man with a moustache got behind the microphone and said: “I have three daughters, and I just am worried about America. I don’t want them to be raised in...have to pay debt, because socialism.”
It sounded like a direct translation from a Japanese video game. What the hell does any of that mean? Nouns and verbs and adjectives don’t fit together that way. And certainly no sort of meaning could be derived from that rubbish. But the funny thing is that other people nodded. Other people seemed concerned by what was troubling this man, and his words made sense to them.
Rep. Price stared blankly for a minute and then answered tersely: “I think we have a problem with definitions here.”
And we do. We have a problem with definitions, with information, with scope, and with meaning. We have completely lost sight of what the healthcare discussion is about, how it got to where it is, and what needs to happen. We let people think for us and act on our behalf that have no business doing so. We all need to go to a town hall meeting and listen to the David Prices of the world and see if his points are really refutable. And when we feel tempted to accuse someone of being a socialist or cut and paste from Sarah Palin’s Facebook page, we should pause just a minute and remember that this fight is not about politics. Its about doing what is right.
-Dave
And that may not be such a bad idiom to use. Massive throngs of people, many of them elderly, are converging on auditoriums all over the country to make sure their opinions about healthcare reform are heard. The Congressmen who are hosting many of these town hall meetings are being greeted with boos, screams, enraged accusations, and the deafening hum of oxygen machines. Many of these gatherings have been less than civil, with frequent outbursts of anger stinking of regurgitated talking points from Fox News anchors and republican officials. In weather parlance, its been a perfect storm of misinformation, senility, and anger.
So when I got an email notifying me about a local town hall meeting with Democratic Congressman David Price, I knew I had to go.
The meeting was held in the stuffy auditorium on NC-Central University’s campus- a historically black college that I am quite certain has never seen so many old and white people parading around. My brother and I arrived an hour early and got decent seats about 100 feet from the stage. We scanned the audience to find potential trouble makers- the moustached man a few rows back with a US Marine Corps hat and a hand-written sign that read “Liberty or Death”, the white-haired gentleman in the center section scratching out notes on the back of an envelope, the motorcycle couple up front with matching mullets and tightly-crossed arms.
Apparently, lots of people had seen the news reports. The auditorium quickly filled to capacity and beyond, with camera flashes and video camera lights blinking in almost every row. Local news outlets and reporters were on the scene, yearning for a chance to capture someone shouting “socialist” or accusing Rep. Price of wanting to kill old people. The anticipation of conflict was certainly palpable.
In those types of situations, I am always tempted to do something rediculous and completely out of left field. But I decided to let other people do that for me.
The emcee of the event began the evening by asking everyone to rise and recite the pledge of allegiance. We then observed a moment of silence for those who “were unable to join us tonight.” Im assuming that he wasn’t referring to the millions of other Americans who were probably watching reruns of CSI on their couch. Either way, it was a little strange to bang the drums of patriotism and recite oaths just to talk about healthcare. Once everyone felt happy and tingly on the inside, we started.
The first outburst came about 4 minutes in. One of the speakers on the panel was talking about the absurdity that Bernie Madoff will be receiving healthcare in his jail cell courtesy of the US government, but that almost 50 million hard working Americans do not have access to the same resources.
“I came here to talk to my congressmen, not to be lectured by some mo-ron!”
Ironically, the disgruntled shouter stormed out of the building, despite the fact that Rep. Price was twiddling his thumbs queued up to speak next.
There were several more outbursts and boos as the evening went on- mostly reacting to the possibility of elderly people being marched out of their retirement homes to face a government-sponsored firing squad. But many of them were hushed and suppressed by the eloquence of Mr. Price and the other speakers on the panel (no, not a death panel). The folks who lined up on the yelling side of the aisle were drowned out by the other participants who actually had things to say. I suppose its pretty easy to get riled up watching Sean Hannity or Glen Beck yak about healthcare on tv, but much harder to translate these unintelligible sentence fragments when faced with an intelligent opposition.
My favorite outburst came towards the end of the evening, when another man with a moustache got behind the microphone and said: “I have three daughters, and I just am worried about America. I don’t want them to be raised in...have to pay debt, because socialism.”
It sounded like a direct translation from a Japanese video game. What the hell does any of that mean? Nouns and verbs and adjectives don’t fit together that way. And certainly no sort of meaning could be derived from that rubbish. But the funny thing is that other people nodded. Other people seemed concerned by what was troubling this man, and his words made sense to them.
Rep. Price stared blankly for a minute and then answered tersely: “I think we have a problem with definitions here.”
And we do. We have a problem with definitions, with information, with scope, and with meaning. We have completely lost sight of what the healthcare discussion is about, how it got to where it is, and what needs to happen. We let people think for us and act on our behalf that have no business doing so. We all need to go to a town hall meeting and listen to the David Prices of the world and see if his points are really refutable. And when we feel tempted to accuse someone of being a socialist or cut and paste from Sarah Palin’s Facebook page, we should pause just a minute and remember that this fight is not about politics. Its about doing what is right.
-Dave
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Some Short of a Quandry
My friend and I have been debating something for quite some time...
Our exchanges always end up the same way- my friend calls me short. I respond by telling him that I am not short, but actually am the national average for height (which is true). His reply is always "yea, national average for female midgets"...
...I get what he's saying, but Im a little shaky on the correctness of it. I ask: are female midgets really shorter than male midgets? And is there really a recorded national average for female midgets?
-Dave
Our exchanges always end up the same way- my friend calls me short. I respond by telling him that I am not short, but actually am the national average for height (which is true). His reply is always "yea, national average for female midgets"...
...I get what he's saying, but Im a little shaky on the correctness of it. I ask: are female midgets really shorter than male midgets? And is there really a recorded national average for female midgets?
-Dave
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Hooray for Trees
Several weeks ago, my doorbell rang. At the door was a goofy, hand-waving young man carrying a clip board and wearing a stupid blue shirt with the words "Environment North Carolina". He asked me for my money.
The interaction certainly filled me with rage (he works for the organization that I just quit- see blog posts with keywords "canvassing", "terrible job", and "holy shit, I want to kick a baby"). But I was more amazed at how withdrawn I felt from the experience- even though he was doing exactly what I did just a few months earlier. It was almost as if my doorstep visitor was from another planet. And for a brief moment, I thought: how does someone even get into that line of work?
And then I remembered.
This week is the annual brainwashing week for all salaried employees of the non profit organization Environment America in Boston, Massachusetts. A week when young, malleable-minded individuals hop on planes, trains, and buses from all over the country and converge on the city where a bunch of rascals hurled some tea into the water several hundred years earlier.
There will be extensive "training"- roleplays followed by roleplays in subjects ranging from "how to map a legislator's sources of influence" to "how to conduct press calls before a news conference". There will be speakers- various state-level advocates, fellows who have lasted several years in the organization, and maybe even a low-level local politician desperate to harness the organization's canvassing arm for their benefit. Trainees will practice introducing themselves, shaking hands, and grinning like an idiot.
At night, there will be organized social events, so trainers can analyze conversations and character in a Sam Adams soaked environment. Watching to see where each of the new crop of employees will fit best.
And at the end of the week, returning employees will trudge back to their offices ready to endure another year of hellish mistreatment and soul-depleting heirarchy. And the new employees will get placed in various offices around the country, each swelling with idealism and eager to tackle the challenges that lie just beyond the reach of Environment America's organizational rigidity. And in two, six, or twelve months down the road, most of them will have been deflated like a balloon, either quitting or just going through the motions because they have no time or energy to break the mold.
Last year, more than 40 people headed to Boston in August. Only about 7 remain. The year before, a similar proportion lasted that long. And this year will probably be similar.
So its easy to see how someone could get sucked in and wind up on your doorstep begging for money. Its the feeling of worth you get training with an organization that aligns with your ideals (atleast on paper). Its the feeling of camaraderie from working with so many other people who are in the same boat at the same time. And it is the calm before the storm of a year otherwise spent in confusion, misery, and anger.
I hope some of them end up enjoying their job- they certainly will be the minority. And for the rest of them who are still trucking through, my hats off to ya.
-Dave
The interaction certainly filled me with rage (he works for the organization that I just quit- see blog posts with keywords "canvassing", "terrible job", and "holy shit, I want to kick a baby"). But I was more amazed at how withdrawn I felt from the experience- even though he was doing exactly what I did just a few months earlier. It was almost as if my doorstep visitor was from another planet. And for a brief moment, I thought: how does someone even get into that line of work?
And then I remembered.
This week is the annual brainwashing week for all salaried employees of the non profit organization Environment America in Boston, Massachusetts. A week when young, malleable-minded individuals hop on planes, trains, and buses from all over the country and converge on the city where a bunch of rascals hurled some tea into the water several hundred years earlier.
There will be extensive "training"- roleplays followed by roleplays in subjects ranging from "how to map a legislator's sources of influence" to "how to conduct press calls before a news conference". There will be speakers- various state-level advocates, fellows who have lasted several years in the organization, and maybe even a low-level local politician desperate to harness the organization's canvassing arm for their benefit. Trainees will practice introducing themselves, shaking hands, and grinning like an idiot.
At night, there will be organized social events, so trainers can analyze conversations and character in a Sam Adams soaked environment. Watching to see where each of the new crop of employees will fit best.
And at the end of the week, returning employees will trudge back to their offices ready to endure another year of hellish mistreatment and soul-depleting heirarchy. And the new employees will get placed in various offices around the country, each swelling with idealism and eager to tackle the challenges that lie just beyond the reach of Environment America's organizational rigidity. And in two, six, or twelve months down the road, most of them will have been deflated like a balloon, either quitting or just going through the motions because they have no time or energy to break the mold.
Last year, more than 40 people headed to Boston in August. Only about 7 remain. The year before, a similar proportion lasted that long. And this year will probably be similar.
So its easy to see how someone could get sucked in and wind up on your doorstep begging for money. Its the feeling of worth you get training with an organization that aligns with your ideals (atleast on paper). Its the feeling of camaraderie from working with so many other people who are in the same boat at the same time. And it is the calm before the storm of a year otherwise spent in confusion, misery, and anger.
I hope some of them end up enjoying their job- they certainly will be the minority. And for the rest of them who are still trucking through, my hats off to ya.
-Dave
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
"Yeah I'm not looking at your dick or anything."
Scene: Trivia Night. It's busy with the regulars and passersbys getting out of shows in the theater district and from a free musical at the common. We arrive early and the trivia guy is late. Robert almost doesn't get in and Pete shows up half way through the night for the first time in months. I walk towards the mens room and pass by a long line of ladies waiting to get into there bathroom. One of them grabs me "I'm going pee in there" While she points towards the mens room. There's no door to the restroom or stall at this joint so I tell her "Alright I'll watch out for you." She shakes her head no, "Fuck that we can pee at the same time get over there and piss."
I do as she says. The stall she's on is only 4' away and faces me. From the corner of my eye I see her pull down her panties and sit.
"Shit I don't think I can pee with you, oh wait... nope, there's pee comin' out of my vagina."
"Good, I'm glad" I respond, "there's pee comin' outa my dick."
"Yeah I'm not looking at your dick or anything."
"I'm not looking at you either miss." She stand and squirms back into her panties, I zip and turn to wash my hand.
"Shit if your washing your hands I guess I should too" she laughs.
We each knock out a squirt of foaming soap and scrub our hands.
"Yeah that was great, no biggie, just peeing, that was fun. Shit yeah I'm from Lebanon why would I care, I'm fucking Lebanese that was no big deal to me".
"Your from Lebanon?"
"You callin' me a liar!?"
"No I was just confirming that I'd heard you correctly" I respond.
She puts her arm around me and her lips close to my ears, "Come find me later and I'll buy you a drink". Interesting.
I return to our table and put my arm around Robert and Pete and retell the story, they laugh and I point her out towards the front of the bar, we laugh again. Did I mention she was an older woman and I was wearing a T-shirt that read, "I 'heart' hot moms"? Seriously.
The game turns around for us, we're in third and rollin' strong. Everyone is contributing and having a blast, it's been a good night win or loose. In the end we take third -our highest placing sense Pete's team took second back in March.
The team encourages me to redeem my drink. So I walk towards her and she's talkin' to a large bald guy. I lean in "You owe me a drink."
"What why?"
"I was in the bathroom and we peed together and you offered me a drink if I found you later."
"Oh shit, that's right, you're right, hey Tim, TIM where's my purse this guy was a gentlemen in the bathroom and I owe him a drink."
I pause, waiting for his massive fist to pummel me into the ground. At this point I think to myself 'That's why you offered?' I was a gentlemen? That was hardly the case.
He asks me "whatcha' drinkin'?" and I respond Bru, I'll take a Brubaker" and he shrugs his shoulders and walks off. She turns too me, "You're sweet, hey do you want to smoke some pot?"
"Hmm it's been a while I dunno."
"It's no big deal Tim'll smoke you out. Is there an alley near bye? Here hand my purse again." Tim returns with the beers and we clink glasses. She leans over to him, "Here take the joint and smoke 'em out he's a nice guy, he hasn't smoked in a while though so watch out for him". He shrugs, looks at me and nods his head towards the door. I fallow.
"Hey what's your name?" I ask.
"Tim".
"Nice to meat you I'm Robert. Thanks for the smoke".
We exchange pleasantries and walk to the alley. He lights up and says "Hey take a big hit like your not afraid to suck a cock."
I take the quickest hit ever and give it right back.
He chuckles and says "I knew it."
I take another hit and this time I really huff and puff. For some reason I can't get myself to stop talking in a drunken' vaguely east coast accent and I'm ready to get punched again. But for a second time Tim restrains himself. We start walking back towards the restaurant and talking about marijuana law. About 5' from the door he says "No look we were never in any danger" and he flips open a wallet out away from his body and flashes me his police badge.
I gulp.
He says have a good night and we both go our separate way in the bar. I walk towards the group -high as a kite in heaven. They ask me if I wanna go get pizza next door with our winnings -perfect timing.
-Raw
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Politics and Concrete Don't Mix
I don't talk about politics at work. For the summer, I am holding down a temporary gig as a office assistant at a local law firm (atleast that is what i put on my resume- "office assistant" seems a little glorious for the work that I am doing). The firm specializes in construction law. We handle disputes between various contractors, developers, subcontractors, and pretty much everyone in North Carolina named Billy, Clint, Buddy, and Jimmy.
So talking about politics doesn't make much sense here. Folks at this firm are generally in a different tax bracket than me, and their wealth is directly tied to development; the more that people build, the more disputes arise, and the more work the firm has. I always learned that development was something with which to proceed cautiously- because of its toll on water resources, quality of life, environmental concerns, and traffic. These people build mini malls, apartment complexes, highway extensions and parking lots like they were made of legos. So we're not all on the same page.
Yesterday, for the first time, I got a glimpse of what I had suspected was hidden beneath the dirt-caked surface. I was speaking with one of the secretaries about a recent disappointment regarding her old DUI arrest. A year had passed since she swerved through town in her old green pickup truck, and she expected to have her car's breathalyzer machine removed (For those of you unaware, this is a machine that you have to breathe sober breath into to be able to start your car- they pretty much come standard with all cars sold in NC). Of course, due to some discrepancy between the DMV and the company that manufactures the breathalyzer (and is the only one capable of removing it), she will have to keep the machine on an extra two months.
I made some comment about the how annoying the politics of this can be- partly because it is true and partly because I didn't want to say "well, you probably should have thought of this before you drank and drove". She replied: "Yea. The government always does this."
"But, like my husband says, its not as bad as them takin' over healthcare. I'd go into the doctor with a note to get a wart removed off my neck and they'd cut off my toe!"
...Took me a second to even realize what she was getting at. [Really? You would go into the doctors office with a note to remove a wart from your neck? You have warts on your neck?] But after it hit me, I realized she was coughing up the same talking points that you might hear on Limbaugh, Fox, or the right side of the aisle in Washington: Any government intervention in healthcare will make doctors retarded. And you will lose a toe.
What kind of nonsense is that? There are so many questions to ask someone who actually believes that. Forget political affiliations and educational background- we are talking about basic competence. Certainly, the healthcare issue in insanely complex. But there is a point at which verbal clutter like that does nothing to advance the discussion and reflects a dangerously low level of understanding. I wont try to tackle the healthcare issue here, but maybe a brief overview is in order...
We are sick. We are fat. We are getting sicker and fatter. We spend a lot of money on healthcare and don't get a lot out of it. Some people don't get anything out of it. We need to make sure everyone has access to healthcare, and that we can pay for it. Doctors and hospitals need a lot of money. The government should probably provide some funding. Don't worry, they already do. They offer Medicare and Medicaid- and those are two of the highest-rated healthcare programs we have. But Barack Obama doesn't want to be your doctor. He doesn't even want to choose your doctor for you- that's what insurance companies have been doing. We have to make sure that doctors can see more patients- and that more patients can see doctors. To pay for this, we need less waste in the system. And that means changing a few things. But it doesn't mean losing coverage or access to your doctor. And it certainly doesn't mean losing quality of care.
...Obviously, there is a lot more to it than that. But regardless of how you cut it, what we have isn't working. And what we are saying about what we have and what we need really isn't working. Whatever "news" programs and email alerts have been trumpeting the message of a socialist, pro-toe removal government that wants to takeover healthcare needs to stop. They are probably not being written by the 47 million Americans that are worse off than the rest of us. Or by the Americans who are actually making suggestions and bringing substance to the discussion. So as our country trudges through this one, let's atleast speak about these things intelligently.
I don't talk about politics at work.
-Dave
So talking about politics doesn't make much sense here. Folks at this firm are generally in a different tax bracket than me, and their wealth is directly tied to development; the more that people build, the more disputes arise, and the more work the firm has. I always learned that development was something with which to proceed cautiously- because of its toll on water resources, quality of life, environmental concerns, and traffic. These people build mini malls, apartment complexes, highway extensions and parking lots like they were made of legos. So we're not all on the same page.
Yesterday, for the first time, I got a glimpse of what I had suspected was hidden beneath the dirt-caked surface. I was speaking with one of the secretaries about a recent disappointment regarding her old DUI arrest. A year had passed since she swerved through town in her old green pickup truck, and she expected to have her car's breathalyzer machine removed (For those of you unaware, this is a machine that you have to breathe sober breath into to be able to start your car- they pretty much come standard with all cars sold in NC). Of course, due to some discrepancy between the DMV and the company that manufactures the breathalyzer (and is the only one capable of removing it), she will have to keep the machine on an extra two months.
I made some comment about the how annoying the politics of this can be- partly because it is true and partly because I didn't want to say "well, you probably should have thought of this before you drank and drove". She replied: "Yea. The government always does this."
"But, like my husband says, its not as bad as them takin' over healthcare. I'd go into the doctor with a note to get a wart removed off my neck and they'd cut off my toe!"
...Took me a second to even realize what she was getting at. [Really? You would go into the doctors office with a note to remove a wart from your neck? You have warts on your neck?] But after it hit me, I realized she was coughing up the same talking points that you might hear on Limbaugh, Fox, or the right side of the aisle in Washington: Any government intervention in healthcare will make doctors retarded. And you will lose a toe.
What kind of nonsense is that? There are so many questions to ask someone who actually believes that. Forget political affiliations and educational background- we are talking about basic competence. Certainly, the healthcare issue in insanely complex. But there is a point at which verbal clutter like that does nothing to advance the discussion and reflects a dangerously low level of understanding. I wont try to tackle the healthcare issue here, but maybe a brief overview is in order...
We are sick. We are fat. We are getting sicker and fatter. We spend a lot of money on healthcare and don't get a lot out of it. Some people don't get anything out of it. We need to make sure everyone has access to healthcare, and that we can pay for it. Doctors and hospitals need a lot of money. The government should probably provide some funding. Don't worry, they already do. They offer Medicare and Medicaid- and those are two of the highest-rated healthcare programs we have. But Barack Obama doesn't want to be your doctor. He doesn't even want to choose your doctor for you- that's what insurance companies have been doing. We have to make sure that doctors can see more patients- and that more patients can see doctors. To pay for this, we need less waste in the system. And that means changing a few things. But it doesn't mean losing coverage or access to your doctor. And it certainly doesn't mean losing quality of care.
...Obviously, there is a lot more to it than that. But regardless of how you cut it, what we have isn't working. And what we are saying about what we have and what we need really isn't working. Whatever "news" programs and email alerts have been trumpeting the message of a socialist, pro-toe removal government that wants to takeover healthcare needs to stop. They are probably not being written by the 47 million Americans that are worse off than the rest of us. Or by the Americans who are actually making suggestions and bringing substance to the discussion. So as our country trudges through this one, let's atleast speak about these things intelligently.
I don't talk about politics at work.
-Dave
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Dear President Obama... (I actually sent this)
July 28th, 2009
President Barack Obama
1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW
Washington, DC 20500
Dear President Obama,
I hope you are doing well. Its hard to believe its been nearly nine months since you were elected! I can remember my excitement that night last November watching your acceptance speech from a restaurant in Boulder, Colorado- a testament to the power of passion and perseverance.
In fact, I spent quite a bit of time working to bring your dream to life. During the three months leading up to the election, I traveled to swing states around the country carrying your message of hope and promise to voters. In Iowa, I registered college students to vote. In Ohio, I organized meetings and events to get young people out to the polls. And in New Hampshire and Colorado, I knocked on doors and called voters to make sure they were ready to check the box next to your name. I voted absentee in North Carolina and called every friend I had in Wisconsin, Minnesota, Florida, and Virginia.
Those were three of the most challenging months of my life. In Iowa City, I slept on the floor in an apartment building that had been vacated after significant flood damage. In Columbus, I stayed in an apartment that permanently reeked of rotten squid after a prolonged power outage thawed the contents of the abandoned freezer. And in Concord, I was sandwiched in to a three-bedroom apartment with 11 other people. I drank more cups of coffee than I can remember, and slept fewer hours than ever before. But those months were also the most exciting that I can remember, and I was lucky to have taken part in such a historical event.
In the time since the election and inauguration, I have been struggling to find a job. The current economic situation has proven difficult and many would-be employers are barely able to stay afloat. I have applied to jobs with private companies, non profits, and government agencies (boy the USAJobs website has some difficult applications!). Most organizations, if they have responded to my cover letters and resumes at all, have replied with a “no”. I suspect that the few companies that are hiring are getting tired of seeing my experiences summarized in 10.5 font on a single page.
As my anxiety over employment has grown, so too has my desire to overcome the challenges that currently face this nation. I have a Bachelors of Science degree in Human Geography from the University of Wisconsin-Madison and a keen interest in environmental policy. I am eager to do whatever it takes to help you make good on the promises you laid out during your campaign. I am writing to see if you are able to help me out- with a job, a letter of recommendation, or even a well-placed phone call on my behalf. I understand that you are busy, but I would be extremely grateful for any help you can provide. Thank you for your time, and I wish you continued success navigating through these difficult times.
Your friend,
David K. Christopher
President Barack Obama
1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW
Washington, DC 20500
Dear President Obama,
I hope you are doing well. Its hard to believe its been nearly nine months since you were elected! I can remember my excitement that night last November watching your acceptance speech from a restaurant in Boulder, Colorado- a testament to the power of passion and perseverance.
In fact, I spent quite a bit of time working to bring your dream to life. During the three months leading up to the election, I traveled to swing states around the country carrying your message of hope and promise to voters. In Iowa, I registered college students to vote. In Ohio, I organized meetings and events to get young people out to the polls. And in New Hampshire and Colorado, I knocked on doors and called voters to make sure they were ready to check the box next to your name. I voted absentee in North Carolina and called every friend I had in Wisconsin, Minnesota, Florida, and Virginia.
Those were three of the most challenging months of my life. In Iowa City, I slept on the floor in an apartment building that had been vacated after significant flood damage. In Columbus, I stayed in an apartment that permanently reeked of rotten squid after a prolonged power outage thawed the contents of the abandoned freezer. And in Concord, I was sandwiched in to a three-bedroom apartment with 11 other people. I drank more cups of coffee than I can remember, and slept fewer hours than ever before. But those months were also the most exciting that I can remember, and I was lucky to have taken part in such a historical event.
In the time since the election and inauguration, I have been struggling to find a job. The current economic situation has proven difficult and many would-be employers are barely able to stay afloat. I have applied to jobs with private companies, non profits, and government agencies (boy the USAJobs website has some difficult applications!). Most organizations, if they have responded to my cover letters and resumes at all, have replied with a “no”. I suspect that the few companies that are hiring are getting tired of seeing my experiences summarized in 10.5 font on a single page.
As my anxiety over employment has grown, so too has my desire to overcome the challenges that currently face this nation. I have a Bachelors of Science degree in Human Geography from the University of Wisconsin-Madison and a keen interest in environmental policy. I am eager to do whatever it takes to help you make good on the promises you laid out during your campaign. I am writing to see if you are able to help me out- with a job, a letter of recommendation, or even a well-placed phone call on my behalf. I understand that you are busy, but I would be extremely grateful for any help you can provide. Thank you for your time, and I wish you continued success navigating through these difficult times.
Your friend,
David K. Christopher
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Is that the Breast you can do?
A funny headline caught my eye the other day: "Playboy bunnies hop on horse issue" (Politico 7/26). I had to read it several times to make sure that I had it down correctly (cut off the last word and you really have a good story!).
Sure enough, the Barbi Twins of centerfold fame have been advocating for the "Restore our American Mustangs Act," which passed through the House of Representatives recently. The act allocates stronger regulations and more land to protect wild horses in the American West. And while there are certainly more pressing issues facing our country, this is a good thing.
The oppositions to the bill were not particularly stunning, nor was the commentary in support of it. But I was a little amazed at the framing of the article.
Does it really matter that Playboy bunnies were in support of this? Does it even matter that Playboy bunnies hold any viewpoints at all?
Do you think that you might have seen the article "Billy Thomas of Davenport, Iowa hops on horse issue"? Or "Jane Doe of Sioux Falls, South Dakota hops on horse issue"? Of course not. So why are these nude models dignified in the "Top Stories" section of Politico? It seems that revealing your breasts is your ticket to both being seen and being heard. And I can't think of too many things I would less rather put a microphone in front of.
In Politico's frame, this is only a story because of the Playboy bunnies. And that is frustrating, disappointing, stupid, and remarkably inconsequential. From now on, if I see "Playboy Bunnies" in the title, it better look something like this:
"Playboy Bunnies negotiate peace deal between Israel and Palestine"
"Playboy Bunnies develop carbon-neutral fuel source available immediately"
"Playboy Bunnies thwart hostile takeover of African village"
and, of course...
"Playboy Bunnies hop on horse"
-Dave
Sure enough, the Barbi Twins of centerfold fame have been advocating for the "Restore our American Mustangs Act," which passed through the House of Representatives recently. The act allocates stronger regulations and more land to protect wild horses in the American West. And while there are certainly more pressing issues facing our country, this is a good thing.
The oppositions to the bill were not particularly stunning, nor was the commentary in support of it. But I was a little amazed at the framing of the article.
Does it really matter that Playboy bunnies were in support of this? Does it even matter that Playboy bunnies hold any viewpoints at all?
Do you think that you might have seen the article "Billy Thomas of Davenport, Iowa hops on horse issue"? Or "Jane Doe of Sioux Falls, South Dakota hops on horse issue"? Of course not. So why are these nude models dignified in the "Top Stories" section of Politico? It seems that revealing your breasts is your ticket to both being seen and being heard. And I can't think of too many things I would less rather put a microphone in front of.
In Politico's frame, this is only a story because of the Playboy bunnies. And that is frustrating, disappointing, stupid, and remarkably inconsequential. From now on, if I see "Playboy Bunnies" in the title, it better look something like this:
"Playboy Bunnies negotiate peace deal between Israel and Palestine"
"Playboy Bunnies develop carbon-neutral fuel source available immediately"
"Playboy Bunnies thwart hostile takeover of African village"
and, of course...
"Playboy Bunnies hop on horse"
-Dave
Monday, July 27, 2009
Errand in Raleigh
I drove the truck to downtown Raleigh and back for an errand today. Figured out some tough math...
(95 degrees + lots of humidity) - air conditioning = butt sweat
-Dave
(95 degrees + lots of humidity) - air conditioning = butt sweat
-Dave
Thursday, July 23, 2009
I Can't Believe Its Butter...
I pride myself on being someone who orders relatively simple things from restaurants.
That way, I feel easily-satisfiable and more in tune with the workings of the service world (The antithesis of this would be the person whose Starbucks order sounds like an exchange from The Godfather). Also, I think simple things often taste better, and are much easier to prepare.
So, as I walked in to the local bagel place this morning, I expected another perfectly-toasted bagel with a little bit of butter and a medium coffee...
The "sandwich artist" placed one large dollop of butter on each half of my bagel, made a half-assed attempt to spread it around, and plopped the two halves together. As she did a massive chunk of butter slid out from the edge and fell to the wax paper below. I assumed she would remove the excess, but she neatly wrapped it up, along with my bagel, and handed me my order over the counter. The butter had already turned the paper completely clear, and I could see the beginnings of a heart attack ooze from all around the bagel's edge.
Im not sure what my order would have looked like had I ordered something other than "a little bit of butter", but I am almost tempted to find out.
I drank the rest of my sopping bagel, and went to work...
[See also: Dunkin Donuts coffee when "a tiny bit" of sugar is ordered]
-Dave
That way, I feel easily-satisfiable and more in tune with the workings of the service world (The antithesis of this would be the person whose Starbucks order sounds like an exchange from The Godfather). Also, I think simple things often taste better, and are much easier to prepare.
So, as I walked in to the local bagel place this morning, I expected another perfectly-toasted bagel with a little bit of butter and a medium coffee...
The "sandwich artist" placed one large dollop of butter on each half of my bagel, made a half-assed attempt to spread it around, and plopped the two halves together. As she did a massive chunk of butter slid out from the edge and fell to the wax paper below. I assumed she would remove the excess, but she neatly wrapped it up, along with my bagel, and handed me my order over the counter. The butter had already turned the paper completely clear, and I could see the beginnings of a heart attack ooze from all around the bagel's edge.
Im not sure what my order would have looked like had I ordered something other than "a little bit of butter", but I am almost tempted to find out.
I drank the rest of my sopping bagel, and went to work...
[See also: Dunkin Donuts coffee when "a tiny bit" of sugar is ordered]
-Dave
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Journalism gone awry...
Politico.com's front page story today poses "10 Questions for President Obama."
Some of these questions are reasonable, though most have a accusatory and skeptical air about them. They do, however, generally address issues that are important and deserve explanation.
Well, most of them atleast... For their last questions, the authors do ask "Do you still plan on joining a Washington-area church and attending services?"...
Thank goodness they asked that one... Whew. Talk about hard hitting journalism about important issues.
-Dave
Some of these questions are reasonable, though most have a accusatory and skeptical air about them. They do, however, generally address issues that are important and deserve explanation.
Well, most of them atleast... For their last questions, the authors do ask "Do you still plan on joining a Washington-area church and attending services?"...
Thank goodness they asked that one... Whew. Talk about hard hitting journalism about important issues.
-Dave
Are You Kitten Me?!
Somewhere near the bottom of the bedpan of American society, lies PETA.
People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals is an organization that fights vigilantly for animal rights, equating everything that has a heartbeat and disregarding any information that may complicate the issue more than that. Many of their poorly-conceived campaigns replace reason, fact, and scientific investigation with speculation, emotion, and feel-goodery. And while they often have admirable goals, PETA irreparably harms the credibility of animal advocacy.
But if you can take a step back from that, their shit is hilarious...
Take, for instance, a campaign aimed at children that PETA launched some time ago called "Save the Sea Kittens". Their goal, simply put, is to get children to think of fish and aquatic animals as kittens of the sea, so they are more likely to protect them. We will forget for a moment that this targets impressionable youngsters- who are busy learning science, reasoning, solving problems, and soaking up the world around them- in an effort to convert more individuals to see the world through their eyes. Instead, we will focus on the content of this campaign.
What's the deal with sea kittens, you ask?
The best part of the campaign is the ability to design your own sea kitten. I encourage it- this helps you to get a real sense of what these creatures are like. This is the sea kitten that I made. His name is Boner.
Create Your Own Sea Kitten at peta.org!
-Dave
People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals is an organization that fights vigilantly for animal rights, equating everything that has a heartbeat and disregarding any information that may complicate the issue more than that. Many of their poorly-conceived campaigns replace reason, fact, and scientific investigation with speculation, emotion, and feel-goodery. And while they often have admirable goals, PETA irreparably harms the credibility of animal advocacy.
But if you can take a step back from that, their shit is hilarious...
Take, for instance, a campaign aimed at children that PETA launched some time ago called "Save the Sea Kittens". Their goal, simply put, is to get children to think of fish and aquatic animals as kittens of the sea, so they are more likely to protect them. We will forget for a moment that this targets impressionable youngsters- who are busy learning science, reasoning, solving problems, and soaking up the world around them- in an effort to convert more individuals to see the world through their eyes. Instead, we will focus on the content of this campaign.
What's the deal with sea kittens, you ask?
... holy shit... of course, this doesn't exactly clarify what a sea kitten is. How about some facts about these wonderful creatures:People don't seem to like fish. They're slithery and slimy, and they have eyes on either side of their pointy little heads—which is weird, to say the least. Plus, the small ones nibble at your feet when you're swimming, and the big ones—well, the big ones will bite your face off if Jaws is anything to go by.
Of course, if you look at it another way, what all this really means is that fish need to fire their PR guy—stat. Whoever was in charge of creating a positive image for fish needs to go right back to working on the Britney Spears account and leave our scaly little friends alone. You've done enough damage, buddy. We've got it from here. And we're going to start by retiring the old name for good. When your name can also be used as a verb that means driving a hook through your head, it's time for a serious image makeover. And who could possibly want to put a hook through a sea kitten?
- Like their surface-dwelling cousins, the land kittens, sea kittens enjoy being petted. Their lack of arms makes it difficult for them to pet back, but they often gently rub against each other as a sign of affection.
- Sea kittens talk to each other through squeaks, squeals, and other low-frequency sounds that humans can only hear through special instruments. Most ichthyologists—scientists who specialize in sea kitten biology—agree that this is just about the cutest thing ever.
- Some sea kittens tend well-kept gardens. They encourage the growth of tasty algae and weed out the types that they don't like. It is particularly tragic when people eat these sea kittens, as their precious little gardens become wild and overgrown in their absence.
The best part of the campaign is the ability to design your own sea kitten. I encourage it- this helps you to get a real sense of what these creatures are like. This is the sea kitten that I made. His name is Boner.
Create Your Own Sea Kitten at peta.org!
-Dave
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Nutty Survey
A research company conducting a survey called the house last night...
Being such a model citizen, and interested in how the public retains information from the news, I agreed to participate. The voice on the other end of the telephone, began to read me questions from her computer screen (The parallels between her job and canvassing are eerie- if for no other reason, one should participate to make sure the surveyor can get a "hot night" and not be fired for surveying too few people)...
...How closely did you pay attention to coverage about the following stories from the news this week? (Very closely, somewhat closely, not very closely, not at all)
Sup Ct Nominee Sonya Sotomayor hearings
Healthcare reform
Bombing in Indonesia
Michael Jackson
What do you think about the amount of news coverage for each of these stories? (Way too much, somewhat too much, the right amount, somewhat too little, way too little)
With regards to healthcare reform, do you think the issue is:
Important?
Interesting?
Difficult to understand?
...and then all of the sudden...
...Do you eat a lot of nuts?
Quite obviously, I froze up. Do I eat a lot of nuts? Where the hell did that come from?
"Uhhh...yes", I responded, ready to hear a friend's voice to barge in on the other end of the telephone and start laughing. But the surveyor just kept on plowing through the questions on her computer screen...
Do you think some nuts are healthier than others?
How often do you eat nuts?
Do you consider nuts a special treat?
Do you eat pistachios? walnuts? cashews? pecans?
After a few minutes, she asked me some demographic questions and then ended the call. I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation about that survey, and I cannot wait to see the results of someone's study linking political receptiveness to consumption of nuts. But I couldn't help but think that it was a fairly awkward transition.
-Dave
Being such a model citizen, and interested in how the public retains information from the news, I agreed to participate. The voice on the other end of the telephone, began to read me questions from her computer screen (The parallels between her job and canvassing are eerie- if for no other reason, one should participate to make sure the surveyor can get a "hot night" and not be fired for surveying too few people)...
...How closely did you pay attention to coverage about the following stories from the news this week? (Very closely, somewhat closely, not very closely, not at all)
Sup Ct Nominee Sonya Sotomayor hearings
Healthcare reform
Bombing in Indonesia
Michael Jackson
What do you think about the amount of news coverage for each of these stories? (Way too much, somewhat too much, the right amount, somewhat too little, way too little)
With regards to healthcare reform, do you think the issue is:
Important?
Interesting?
Difficult to understand?
...and then all of the sudden...
...Do you eat a lot of nuts?
Quite obviously, I froze up. Do I eat a lot of nuts? Where the hell did that come from?
"Uhhh...yes", I responded, ready to hear a friend's voice to barge in on the other end of the telephone and start laughing. But the surveyor just kept on plowing through the questions on her computer screen...
Do you think some nuts are healthier than others?
How often do you eat nuts?
Do you consider nuts a special treat?
Do you eat pistachios? walnuts? cashews? pecans?
After a few minutes, she asked me some demographic questions and then ended the call. I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation about that survey, and I cannot wait to see the results of someone's study linking political receptiveness to consumption of nuts. But I couldn't help but think that it was a fairly awkward transition.
-Dave
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Moon Hoax
Apparently, 6% of Americans still believe we never landed on the moon.
That's remarkably discouraging, given that these 19 million or so people probably go through life thinking there is nothing wrong with them. Well, there is.
To completely disregard one of the most astonishing feats of human kind is to trivialize a branch of science that has provided us with incredible discoveries, state-of-the-art technologies, and clever inventions. NASA's contributions to "everyday society" are enormous- many of these contributions are a direct result of our efforts to go farther than we ever have before. Namely, to the moon.
Advances in medicine including: MRI's, Laser eye surgery, and prosthetic limbs have benefited millions of people.
Smoke detectors, ergonomically-designed chairs, drinking water purifiers, and satellite television have improved the safety and comfort of home living.
Bar codes, invisible braces, fire-resistant materials, memory-foam mattresses, sun glasses, ski boots, football helmets, and toothpaste were also all direct results of NASA research.
And the list goes on...
... So denying such an event, while taking these items for granted is obtuse, ill-informed, and stupid. But that goes without saying. The entertaining bit is the conviction with which these views are expressed and the attempted "scientific" explanations used to express them! At the risk of giving these people any undeserved attention, it is worth looking at a few of their claims. [Taken from http://www.apfn.org/apfn/moon.htm, which is authored by a "self-taught" engineer].
-Dave
That's remarkably discouraging, given that these 19 million or so people probably go through life thinking there is nothing wrong with them. Well, there is.
To completely disregard one of the most astonishing feats of human kind is to trivialize a branch of science that has provided us with incredible discoveries, state-of-the-art technologies, and clever inventions. NASA's contributions to "everyday society" are enormous- many of these contributions are a direct result of our efforts to go farther than we ever have before. Namely, to the moon.
Advances in medicine including: MRI's, Laser eye surgery, and prosthetic limbs have benefited millions of people.
Smoke detectors, ergonomically-designed chairs, drinking water purifiers, and satellite television have improved the safety and comfort of home living.
Bar codes, invisible braces, fire-resistant materials, memory-foam mattresses, sun glasses, ski boots, football helmets, and toothpaste were also all direct results of NASA research.
And the list goes on...
... So denying such an event, while taking these items for granted is obtuse, ill-informed, and stupid. But that goes without saying. The entertaining bit is the conviction with which these views are expressed and the attempted "scientific" explanations used to express them! At the risk of giving these people any undeserved attention, it is worth looking at a few of their claims. [Taken from http://www.apfn.org/apfn/moon.htm, which is authored by a "self-taught" engineer].
- One NASA picture from Apollo 11 is looking up at Neil Armstrong about to take his giant step for mankind. The photographer must have been lying on the planet surface. If Armstrong was the first man on the Moon, then who took the shot?
- Apollo 14 astronaut Allen Shepard played golf on the Moon. In front of a worldwide TV audience, Mission Control teased him about slicing the ball to the right. Yet a slice is caused by uneven air flow over the ball. The Moon has no atmosphere and no air.
- The flags shadow goes behind the rock so doesn't match the dark line in the foreground, which looks like a line cord. So the shadow to the lower right of the spaceman must be the flag. Where is his shadow?
-Dave
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Fashion Ad-visor
The world of fashion, while not very interesting, is always changing. Bell-bottoms, jean shorts, and short ties have come and gone, taking their rightful place at the bottom of history's cedar chest.
Much of this change is probably driven by the Abercrombie & Fitches of the world, who get movie stars and pop singers to wear their clothing, thereby inspiring millions of impressionable teens to spend a fortune on the latest clothing lines. This is a very shameful aspect of our national culture- not because it is hard (and expensive) to keep up with the world of fashion, but because we continue to define ourselves by what we buy and wear.
Exhibit A:
Man in suit: looks important
Man in rag tag: looks unimportant
Of course, for all of these frustrations there are a few upsides. Many clothing items are quickly whisked away from the national scene, barely leaving a mark. Since most of what is produced today is crap, this is nice.
But this fast-paced, ever-changing sphere has left an item in the dust. And I desperately want it to come back and take it away.
I am speaking of visors...
... Visors are worn by only two types of people: old people (mostly golfers) and southern frat boys (and the occasional hybrid). Both of these demographics are irritating, and I am getting tired of seeing the uniform of senility and douchebaggery everywhere I go.
But visors are persistent. They have the sun-blocking capabilities of a baseball cap without messing up your $55 hairdo. And for an accessory to appeal to both sides of the fashion spectrum (old people, whose disconnect from the world around them ensures that they only care about function; and frat boys, who desperately try to look cool no matter how inconvenient or ridiculous), it certainly is versatile.
Unfortunately visors are also really annoying. I'm quite sure that most car accidents happen when people are wearing visors (and driving 15 mph under the speed limit). I'm also sure that most date rapes are committed by visor-toting individuals.
I think the need to abolish the visor speaks for itself (because its proponents would most likely repeat themselves incessantly or say "duuuuddee" a lot).
-Dave
Much of this change is probably driven by the Abercrombie & Fitches of the world, who get movie stars and pop singers to wear their clothing, thereby inspiring millions of impressionable teens to spend a fortune on the latest clothing lines. This is a very shameful aspect of our national culture- not because it is hard (and expensive) to keep up with the world of fashion, but because we continue to define ourselves by what we buy and wear.
Exhibit A:
Man in suit: looks important
Man in rag tag: looks unimportant
Of course, for all of these frustrations there are a few upsides. Many clothing items are quickly whisked away from the national scene, barely leaving a mark. Since most of what is produced today is crap, this is nice.
But this fast-paced, ever-changing sphere has left an item in the dust. And I desperately want it to come back and take it away.
I am speaking of visors...
... Visors are worn by only two types of people: old people (mostly golfers) and southern frat boys (and the occasional hybrid). Both of these demographics are irritating, and I am getting tired of seeing the uniform of senility and douchebaggery everywhere I go.
But visors are persistent. They have the sun-blocking capabilities of a baseball cap without messing up your $55 hairdo. And for an accessory to appeal to both sides of the fashion spectrum (old people, whose disconnect from the world around them ensures that they only care about function; and frat boys, who desperately try to look cool no matter how inconvenient or ridiculous), it certainly is versatile.
Unfortunately visors are also really annoying. I'm quite sure that most car accidents happen when people are wearing visors (and driving 15 mph under the speed limit). I'm also sure that most date rapes are committed by visor-toting individuals.
I think the need to abolish the visor speaks for itself (because its proponents would most likely repeat themselves incessantly or say "duuuuddee" a lot).
-Dave
Cheeeeeese
...Okay, well it wasn't a 95-mph fastball, but atleast it got there and didn't require that he then got hooked up to an oxygen mask.
-Dave
-Dave
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Strike One
It is funny watching someone do something that they suck at.
In the world of baseball's ceremonial first pitches, this happens a lot. Americans have witnessed countless famous people step up to the mound and disappoint the entire nation with a pathetic effort to hurl a 5-ounce ball 60 feet to the plate. We have repeatedly been willing to couch our expectations and applaud their efforts, trying desperately to picture the hurler as the star we once knew and not the pathetic sack of bones on the TV screen before us. We are tremendously gracious.
But, just as there are some drawings that a young child brings home that simply do not belong on the fridge, there have been many ceremonial first pitches that test the limits of our graciousness and tolerance:
And, providing that the President throws the ball in the general direction of home plate, you can expect the Washington Nationals to extend a contract offer to the hometown lefty. Their team ERA is currently right up there with Obama's approval ratings...
-Dave
In the world of baseball's ceremonial first pitches, this happens a lot. Americans have witnessed countless famous people step up to the mound and disappoint the entire nation with a pathetic effort to hurl a 5-ounce ball 60 feet to the plate. We have repeatedly been willing to couch our expectations and applaud their efforts, trying desperately to picture the hurler as the star we once knew and not the pathetic sack of bones on the TV screen before us. We are tremendously gracious.
But, just as there are some drawings that a young child brings home that simply do not belong on the fridge, there have been many ceremonial first pitches that test the limits of our graciousness and tolerance:
- Mariah Carey: The ball barely cleared her toes before falling to the ground about 55 feet shy of home plate in her 2008 toss in San Fransisco.
- Mark Mallory: For his 2007 home-opener for the Reds, the mayor of Cincinnati threw the ball into Cleveland
- Adam Carolla: I'm not sure he could hit water from a boat. Also, the Man Show sucked.
- Dick Cheney: For his ceremonial first pitch, Mr. Cheney came up a little short. He should probably stick to hunting.
And, providing that the President throws the ball in the general direction of home plate, you can expect the Washington Nationals to extend a contract offer to the hometown lefty. Their team ERA is currently right up there with Obama's approval ratings...
-Dave
Monday, July 13, 2009
A Letter
Dear NC Governor Bev Purdue,
I wanted to express my strong opposition to the tax increases that you recently proposed to help balance the state's budget. Such taxes could forever damage our state's economy and make us more like Communist China. To solve the economic crisis here at home, we just need to do a little house cleaning. I offer the following suggestions for places to cut spending:
I hope you will take my suggestions into account as you move forward. NC has to live up to its rich history of hard work and economic prosperity that is in no way tied to social status or an unfair exploitation of ethnic minorities. Placing absurd taxes on discretionary items unfairly punishes those of us who have worked a little harder.
I am particularly offended by the potential tax on "luxury services" like cosmetic surgery, limos, and chartered flights that will soon be voted on in the state house. These are three of the few remaining items that make us feel isolated from the current economic crisis. Establishing a tax on our fake boobs and private transportation will make us feel a little more like everyone else. Point of information: If I take a chartered flight and then a limo to my cosmetic surgery appointment, will I be taxed three times? That is simply not fair.
Sincerely,
Rich People
P.S. Please find enclosed a wad of $100's.
-Dave
I wanted to express my strong opposition to the tax increases that you recently proposed to help balance the state's budget. Such taxes could forever damage our state's economy and make us more like Communist China. To solve the economic crisis here at home, we just need to do a little house cleaning. I offer the following suggestions for places to cut spending:
- Education- NC ranks 45th nationally in the quality of our secondary schools and 40th in expenditures per pupil. We have a little breathing room here. We are not completely at the bottom. I think we can probably settle for the older editions of textbooks ("National Economic Theory: 1980-2008 Edition" and "Rove and Cheney's Climate Change Science for Lawmakers: Shorter than ever before!") to cut our costs.
- Healthcare- We have the 7th highest infant mortality rate. That's practically a double-digit ranking! Perhaps we are currently spending too much on fancy technology and vaccinations. I think we should reuse needles, double-up patients in hospital beds, and stop giving our kids so many expensive shots. After all, when was the last time you heard about someone getting polio?
- Energy use- Its time to stop importing all of our oil from overseas. I'm sure we have some oil to drill for right here in NC. Or coal. And I know for a fact we have a lot of forests that are stock full of wood to burn. Seems like a no-brainer to me!
I hope you will take my suggestions into account as you move forward. NC has to live up to its rich history of hard work and economic prosperity that is in no way tied to social status or an unfair exploitation of ethnic minorities. Placing absurd taxes on discretionary items unfairly punishes those of us who have worked a little harder.
I am particularly offended by the potential tax on "luxury services" like cosmetic surgery, limos, and chartered flights that will soon be voted on in the state house. These are three of the few remaining items that make us feel isolated from the current economic crisis. Establishing a tax on our fake boobs and private transportation will make us feel a little more like everyone else. Point of information: If I take a chartered flight and then a limo to my cosmetic surgery appointment, will I be taxed three times? That is simply not fair.
Sincerely,
Rich People
P.S. Please find enclosed a wad of $100's.
-Dave
Friday, July 10, 2009
A True Bailout...
Reenactment of a conversation at Nevada Senator John Ensign's dinner table:
... Seems like the workings of a bad hollywood drama, but this is real life! That's right, Nevada Republican Senator John Ensign recently disclosed an affair he had been having with Cynthia Hampton- a former member of his staff. And the story that is unfolding is worthy of a movie (co-starring Mark Sanford??). Ensign's parents wrote the Hamptons a check for almost $100K after they left his staff (they both used to work for him).
If you are still a little unsure about who Sen. Ensign is, here are a few facts that may jog your memory:
... But this hypocrisy and bigotry are becoming very common on the right side of the aisle. The amazing thing here is that his parents forked over almost $100,000 dollars to fund his extramarital affair! They were accomplices in his hypocrisy and players in his infidelity.
Forget the "birds and the bees" talk- asking mom and dad to help you out with that one must be incredibly awkward...
-Dave
Mom/Dad: Hi Johnny. How was your day?
JE: It was okay... Hey mom and dad, can I borrow $96,000?
Mom/Dad: Hmm... what for?
JE: Well, I've been having an extramarital affair for the last 9 months with someone that works for me. I've pursued her pretty relentlessly and it has really torn her marriage apart. I want to pay her and her family $96,000 to keep things quiet and I know that if the money comes from my wallet, that would be bad news. What do you say?
Mom/Dad: ...Okay.
... Seems like the workings of a bad hollywood drama, but this is real life! That's right, Nevada Republican Senator John Ensign recently disclosed an affair he had been having with Cynthia Hampton- a former member of his staff. And the story that is unfolding is worthy of a movie (co-starring Mark Sanford??). Ensign's parents wrote the Hamptons a check for almost $100K after they left his staff (they both used to work for him).
If you are still a little unsure about who Sen. Ensign is, here are a few facts that may jog your memory:
- He serves on the Senate Committee on Rules and Administration
- He received a 100% rating by the Christian Coalition (founded by Pat Robertson) for his pro-family voting record (2003)
- He eloquently stated in a 2006 senate debate:
My Nevada roots go back to my great-grandparents, who settled our state in the early 1900s. They created and passed down a work ethic and values of have integrity that I have embraced my entire life. I’ve tried to instill those Nevada values in my own children. We need proven Nevada leadership to keep Nevada strong. We need leaders with a deep understanding of our state. We need proven Nevada leadership to keep Nevada strong.
... But this hypocrisy and bigotry are becoming very common on the right side of the aisle. The amazing thing here is that his parents forked over almost $100,000 dollars to fund his extramarital affair! They were accomplices in his hypocrisy and players in his infidelity.
Forget the "birds and the bees" talk- asking mom and dad to help you out with that one must be incredibly awkward...
-Dave
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Zing!
Disagreement often breeds awkwardness. Check out Exhibit A...
... How do you respond to that??
So in honor of Mr Baldwin, we will start a list of famous people (or atleast recognizable ones) who claim to stand for one thing and live quite another... Feel free to add your own
Jack Cafferty
Mark Sanford (SC gov. with a conservative mind and a liberal penis)
Bill O'Reilly (check this out)
...
... How do you respond to that??
So in honor of Mr Baldwin, we will start a list of famous people (or atleast recognizable ones) who claim to stand for one thing and live quite another... Feel free to add your own
Jack Cafferty
Mark Sanford (SC gov. with a conservative mind and a liberal penis)
Bill O'Reilly (check this out)
...
Beating a very dead horse...
Here is CNN's web page from two days ago, doctored up a bit... Apparently something happened with Michael Jackson.
California...knows how to party
I realize many of our readers are California based, and therefore, may be a little more sympathetic to the Michael Jackson hubbub. After all, he does represent the three major pillars of the California lifestyle:
-Dave (fully acknowledging that Raw may kill me for this)
- Debt- Ah yes. MJ's highly anticipated tour in Europe was going to help chip away at his roughly $500 million debt and get him back into the black (not like that)... If only California could dance.
- Excess- It goes hand in hand with debt. But in the case of both MJ and Cali, a little debt is no reason to curb excesses. Jackson was carried into his $2.5 million memorial service in a golden coffin. The voters of California keep passing referendums for infrastructure and social programs without having the money to fund them.
- Refusal- Again, a tag-along of debt and excess. In the case of Cali, its refusing to pay an extra penny in taxes to fund the crumpling schools, public transportation systems, environmental services, and social programs that seem to get approved every time there is a vote. In the case of MJ, its about relationships: Billie Jean is not his lover. The kid is not his son.
-Dave (fully acknowledging that Raw may kill me for this)
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
MJ...More BREAKING NEWS
Here is another one. No joke...
CNN Breaking news - At memorial service in L.A., Michael Jackson's daughter Paris says he was "the best father you could ever imagine."
-Dave
CNN Breaking news - At memorial service in L.A., Michael Jackson's daughter Paris says he was "the best father you could ever imagine."
-Dave
MJ
The previous post is a text message I received from CNN (I am subscribed to receive all Breaking News reports).Thank goodness for hard-hitting journalism...
...CNN has continued to update me throughout the service...
1:59 pm: CNN Breaking News- Ushers at Michael Jackson's memorial pass around pairs of MJ's underwear for crowd to sniff.
2:03 pm: CNN Breaking News- Atleast 200 people crying at Michael Jackson's memorial. Everyone is paying attention to the service and seems fixated at the golden coffin on stage.
2:09 pm: CNN Breaking News- Michael Jackson is still dead
-Dave
...CNN has continued to update me throughout the service...
1:59 pm: CNN Breaking News- Ushers at Michael Jackson's memorial pass around pairs of MJ's underwear for crowd to sniff.
2:03 pm: CNN Breaking News- Atleast 200 people crying at Michael Jackson's memorial. Everyone is paying attention to the service and seems fixated at the golden coffin on stage.
2:09 pm: CNN Breaking News- Michael Jackson is still dead
-Dave
BREAKING NEWS!!
Text message update:
CNN Breaking news - Michael Jackson's golden coffin is placed in front of the stage as his memorial service gets under way in Los Angeles.
CNN Breaking news - Michael Jackson's golden coffin is placed in front of the stage as his memorial service gets under way in Los Angeles.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Job Applications- Part I
I have been applying for a lot of jobs lately. The process is tremendously agonizing, and I can only begin to describe the sense of worthlessness that materializes when you are staring at your cursor blink incessantly from line 27 of your resume...
For starters, the task of sifting through your life and making it fit on a single piece of paper is daunting and humbling. This is true for obvious reasons- we wont get into them in any detail here. Writing a resume is a 3-hour, 400-word reminder that you suck.
So in order to make the process less aweful and more interesting, I am recommending a few changes to take immediate effect:
(1) Allow pictures. According to folklore, pictures are worth one thousand words. Its also true that pictures take less time to read than their literary equivalent. Allowing photographs and hand-drawn images would reveal much more about the applicant, and would take much less time to review.
An example: "... I worked tirelessly in all aspects of office development including: staff management, training, payroll, hiring, basic office logistics, tracking correspondence, and developing a comprehensive organizational system to promote efficiency." vs. this.
(2) Two truths and a lie. We all know the old game where you list off three "facts" about you (only 2 of which are true) and make other players guess which one is a lie. It occupied us on thousands of road trips growing up and continues to be a favorite icebreaker at office outings around the country. So why not bring it to the application process. If carried out properly, it would surely spark interest in a candidate and give them a chance to be noticed.
An example:
Manager, John and John's Office Supplies May 2004-August 2007
- Tracked payroll, managed staff, and conducted all hiring for this company
- Awarded employee of the month 6/06 and 3/07
Human Resources Specialist, Innovate Inc. June 2000-April 2004
- Responsible for hiring publications, application review, administering interviews
- Typing 70 wpm, familiar with Microsoft Word and Excel
King of England, England April 1737- April 1755
- Oversaw advancement and growth of the British Empire
- Comfortable with many important monarchical tasks including: appointing team of advisors, troop deployment, giving really big speeches, thwarting colonial attempts at secession, conducting public beheadings, wearing heavy jewel-studded crown.
(3) Hidden messages. Everybody can write messages that mean something. But most people can't write messages that mean multiple things. Hidden messages are an excellent way for applicants to convey a depth of character that would otherwise be absent in a normal resume. Plus they are really cool.
An example:
"While at the company, I used a variety of organizational techniques to keep documents in order. My work for our firm made me skilled and able to improve the lives of my coworkers."
... on the surface, that seems perfectly normal. But if you look a little closer, you will see something more. And perhaps something of value to the potential employer...
"While at the company, I used a variety of organizational techniques to keep documents in order. My work for our firm made me skilled and able to improve the lives of my coworkers."
... The current dance between potential employer and prospective employee has gotten stale and unexciting. These simple additions can have potentially important benefits for both parties. I suggest that employers begin to welcome these changes immediately (and, for my benefit, retroactively).
-Dave
For starters, the task of sifting through your life and making it fit on a single piece of paper is daunting and humbling. This is true for obvious reasons- we wont get into them in any detail here. Writing a resume is a 3-hour, 400-word reminder that you suck.
So in order to make the process less aweful and more interesting, I am recommending a few changes to take immediate effect:
(1) Allow pictures. According to folklore, pictures are worth one thousand words. Its also true that pictures take less time to read than their literary equivalent. Allowing photographs and hand-drawn images would reveal much more about the applicant, and would take much less time to review.
An example: "... I worked tirelessly in all aspects of office development including: staff management, training, payroll, hiring, basic office logistics, tracking correspondence, and developing a comprehensive organizational system to promote efficiency." vs. this.
(2) Two truths and a lie. We all know the old game where you list off three "facts" about you (only 2 of which are true) and make other players guess which one is a lie. It occupied us on thousands of road trips growing up and continues to be a favorite icebreaker at office outings around the country. So why not bring it to the application process. If carried out properly, it would surely spark interest in a candidate and give them a chance to be noticed.
An example:
Manager, John and John's Office Supplies May 2004-August 2007
- Tracked payroll, managed staff, and conducted all hiring for this company
- Awarded employee of the month 6/06 and 3/07
Human Resources Specialist, Innovate Inc. June 2000-April 2004
- Responsible for hiring publications, application review, administering interviews
- Typing 70 wpm, familiar with Microsoft Word and Excel
King of England, England April 1737- April 1755
- Oversaw advancement and growth of the British Empire
- Comfortable with many important monarchical tasks including: appointing team of advisors, troop deployment, giving really big speeches, thwarting colonial attempts at secession, conducting public beheadings, wearing heavy jewel-studded crown.
(3) Hidden messages. Everybody can write messages that mean something. But most people can't write messages that mean multiple things. Hidden messages are an excellent way for applicants to convey a depth of character that would otherwise be absent in a normal resume. Plus they are really cool.
An example:
"While at the company, I used a variety of organizational techniques to keep documents in order. My work for our firm made me skilled and able to improve the lives of my coworkers."
... on the surface, that seems perfectly normal. But if you look a little closer, you will see something more. And perhaps something of value to the potential employer...
"While at the company, I used a variety of organizational techniques to keep documents in order. My work for our firm made me skilled and able to improve the lives of my coworkers."
... The current dance between potential employer and prospective employee has gotten stale and unexciting. These simple additions can have potentially important benefits for both parties. I suggest that employers begin to welcome these changes immediately (and, for my benefit, retroactively).
-Dave
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Words are Funny
Courting someone and bringing someone to court have entirely different meanings...
-Dave
-Dave
Friday, June 26, 2009
Genesis...2
For those of you still out there...
...Im starting up again. Stay tuned for blog posts.
Dave
...Im starting up again. Stay tuned for blog posts.
Dave
Monday, May 11, 2009
Are those new slacks: Part II
Today is Raw's birthday. He is 26 years old. All of the sudden, 30 doesn't seem that far off. Neither does 40... and 50. In honor of the excitement of it all, I bought Raw one of those cataract calculators with extra large numbers so he can calculate how many brain cells he has lost since his birth more than a quarter of a century ago.
I have also decided to list a few memorable statistics...
- Mount Everest has grown 5.2 feet since Raw was born
- Raw has been alive for nearly 33% of Dick Clark's life.
- Ronald Reagan was president when Raw was born.
- Raw is twice as old as the youngest teenager (which most assuredly makes his affinity for them unethical and immoral)
...Happy birthday, old buddy. You're not over the hill yet, but you may be getting a few nose bleeds from the climb.
-Dave
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Subway Stabbing Sparks International Incident
On the "T" last night three attractive ladies strolled on to the train dressed to the nines and headed out to party. From what I could tell they were international students, and Indian, an Aussie and a Brit. I know it sounds like I'm setting up a joke... well I guess I am but not in the way you think.
At the next stop a young lady carrying multiple bags wobbled onto the train and stood there looking exhausted. Something about the expression on her face made me feel bad for her -she was miserable as she stood there in flip flops and a dress being contorted by the various straps from the bags she was carrying. We hit central square a couple of minutes later and the train cleared out a little and she plopped down next to the international students. When we neared Harvard the internacionals stood up to leave and the train came to a stop causing them to have to take a step back to brace themselves. At that moment the tired lady screamed out in pain and startled everyone. The Aussie had accidental dug the heal of her stiletto into the top of the already flustered ladies foot.
The Aussie leaned over and apologized profusely. I was sitting directly across from the injured woman and could see the look on her face. She said nothing, she just stared up at the pretty Australian with a look on her face I could never imagine anybody making who wasn't on stage or in front of a camera. It was as if the Aussie woman killed her baby. The Brit and Indian woman eventually pulled the Aussie away before the doors closed and we started moving again. The train car was dead silent.
As we neared porter the lady started to shed a few tears as she reached for her foot. The doors opened and she slowly stood. It took her forever to leave the train, at least it felt like forever. It was as if everyone was watching out of the corner of their eye as she limped towards the exit -holding their breath until she was gone.
I felt terrible for her but she had certainly not been able to muster the strength to accept the Aussie woman's apology for what was obviously an accident. Something about this bothered me. Given the similar reaction from the rest of the train I have to believe we were all kinda thinking the same thing.
-Raw
Smash n' Grab
I went to hug a friend of mine from the side last night and I accidentally got a fist full of boob -sorry Mere.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Are those new slacks?
From the April 10th version of Science Magazine:
Having negative ideas about old people may harm your own health later in life, a longitudinal study suggests...On joining the study, the participants--healthy adults under 50-- filled out a questionnaire that asked about 'stereotypes' such as whether old people are "absent-minded" or "less intelligent"...The researchers found that people with worse-than-average age stereotypes were likely to have heart attacks or strokes at younger ages.
...so, given my 23 years of transgressions in this department, I have decided to simultaneously clear my conscience and improve my health...
Dear old people,
...no wait...
Dear old people,
I am sorry for having thought until recently that you are all senile, sluggish, and pathetic. I appreciate your long stories and I love when you pay with exact change at the grocery store. I now know that parking spaces are unfairly sized and that your poor driving is best explained by environmental factors. And I appreciate how your houses always smell like mothballs- its cute.
I hope that you can forgive me and that you will invite me to your front porch next time you scowl at teenagers and minorities.
Sincerely,
Dave
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
No "magic wand tool" Blues
I was supposed to have a date today. Well, a quasi date. She was supposed to meet me at the Davis T stop at noon an we were going to hang out and I was going to show her the basics of Photoshop so she can start fiddling around with her photos. I waited for 45 minutes while people passed me thinking "Who's the creep just watching people exit trains?"
I had gotten up early this morning and cleaned house, showered and borrowed a nice shirt from Dave. I had tea-cookies, coffee and orange juice waiting for us back at the house and I'd spent last night downloading the software for her and re-teaching myself some of the finer points I'd forgotten. I've since eaten every last cookie.
When I was at the station I tried to not look like a creep in a black over coat -should have picked a different jacket. I studied each piece of artwork intently and must say 8 year old kids these days know how to draw boats and sharks far better than I ever did at that age. The walk home in the rain wasn't as much of a kick-in-the-cherry-on-top as I'd thought it would be though.
Well at least now the house is clean, I'm clean shaven, and I figured out how to use a masking layer when applying a gradient to multiple layers of a project in PS CS4. There's a silver lining to everything I guess.
-Raw
I had gotten up early this morning and cleaned house, showered and borrowed a nice shirt from Dave. I had tea-cookies, coffee and orange juice waiting for us back at the house and I'd spent last night downloading the software for her and re-teaching myself some of the finer points I'd forgotten. I've since eaten every last cookie.
When I was at the station I tried to not look like a creep in a black over coat -should have picked a different jacket. I studied each piece of artwork intently and must say 8 year old kids these days know how to draw boats and sharks far better than I ever did at that age. The walk home in the rain wasn't as much of a kick-in-the-cherry-on-top as I'd thought it would be though.
Well at least now the house is clean, I'm clean shaven, and I figured out how to use a masking layer when applying a gradient to multiple layers of a project in PS CS4. There's a silver lining to everything I guess.
-Raw
Jigglin' for Change
It goes by many names: the street shake, the beggar bounce, the retard rock. But the official name is the canvass jiggle. And its awkward as hell...
For those of us who are in (or have recently been in) the world of environmental non-profits, its the bread n' butter of daily life. When we are sent out to the streets to raise money for the organization (aka canvass), it is the best way to look excited and get people to contribute to the cause (aka act like a huge douche and beg people for money).
From an outside perspective, its that thing that alerts you to the fact that the guy in the stupid t-shirt begging for money is a giant taint. It looks quite odd.
First, said taint puts his/her weight on the balls of their feet and lightly bounces up and down to the rhythms of their presentation. Of course, this almost makes it sound graceful, which it most certainly is not. This presentation is highly scripted, so the canvassing jiggle is really more of a douchey regurgitation than an improvisational dance. If you watch it long enough, you most certainly will throw up.
Second, the canvasser's hands join the party. At this point, he/she will have somehow found a way to get their clipboard into your hands. You will see their frantic spasms from the corner of your eye as you try to pretend to seem interested in what they are talking about. Its painful to watch, but impossible to ignore- kindof like watching someone get hit by a car...repeatedly.
Finally, the canvasser will finish up with their presentation and smile (in the field, we call it a "rap", though its considerably more painful to listen to- almost like the song Butterfly by Crazy Town). Its usually a horrendously cheesy smile, depending on how well the canvasser was trained. It will most likely want to make you kick a baby, but somehow you will probably just force a smile back.
Obviously, the exchange can go on and on, depending on how swiftly you can say "NO. I dont want to give you any money." (Try saying "I'll think about it" or "hmmm, maybe" to a canvasser. That is the equivalent of saying "please ask me to give you money again"). But I digress. You have witnessed the canvass jiggle. These three elements in harmony climb to the top of the douchebaggery meter (right up there with fanny packs and Adam Brody from "The O.C.")
Evolution certainly has some peculiarities. Peacocks, although beautiful, look ridiculous as they fan out their feathers and flash beauty at those around them. Porcupines can go to town killing animals in the forests, but have to be careful when getting intimate with other porcupines. An canvassers, for some unknown reason, have evolved these traits to distinguish themselves from the other people who beg for change on the streets. Its not to say that they are bad, or even the organizations they work for are (gulp), but their tactics sure are.
So, for those of you who are still in it, I hope you know you look ridiculous when you do the shake. And for those of you who are still scratching your heads, go hang out in a busy spot where canvassers are likely to roam. Don't worry, if you are assertive you wont have to give. But you will have to deal with some awwwkkkwardd shit. And you will know it when you see it
-Dave
Monday, May 4, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Adventures of a Happy (on the outside) Robot
Special guest The Actress talks to us about the difficulties of being a bot.
Hello Awkwordnaughts! Guest Blogger #1 here. Call me The Actress, for reasons soon to be revealed. I, like many of the others frequently mentioned in this blog, am affiliated with a certain gigantic, national non-profit organization. But I, unlike many of the other key players, am still working for them. The others have all departed its grasp in the past few months, and are living happy lives without it. We won't get into the reasons why people have left, but I now find myself in the same position my friends and former colleagues were in a few weeks or months ago: making the decision to quit.
This in and of itself is not awkward, but let me tell you from firsthand experience, trying to conceal this fact to your employers certainly is. In our organization, we spend pretty much every waking hour with our co-workers and employers; we eat, sleep, and breathe our work. And you HAVE to be enthusiastic about it, or else you just "aren't the right fit for the job." I, by nature, am not an incredibly outgoing or peppy person; I would say I lean more towards introversion and sarcasm. I realized a little while ago that I did not agree with much of what my organization espouses, but did not decide to quit until recently. This decision has led me to have many interactions where my inner self is screaming at my outer self because it can't believe what I am actually forcing myself to do.
Like I said, enthusiasm is a must in this job. I have found that in order to keep the charade up that I love this work, I have upped the tone of my voice approximately one octave, and have taken to inserting the words "Awesome!", "Super!", and "Great!" into my daily vernacular at least twenty times as frequently as I used to. We have to interact with hundreds of people every day, and with every one, right before the interaction happens, I feel slightly nauseous with dread, and then suck it up, put on a cheesy grin and start talking like I am the world's most optimistic robot. The scary part is that I do it quite well! I honestly believe that my co-workers have no idea that I am unhappy, and I am probably one of the best people in my office. I must admit, I am a little proud of my Oscar-worthy performance.
In addition to the awkward inner feelings I have when having to be fake enthusiastic about something I completely hate, I have to constantly be watching what I say so that I don't give any clues to my impending departure. Typical conversation A:
Co-Worker: "Hey! Aren't you excited about working on the campaign later this summer??"
What I want to answer: "Oh dear God, if I have to talk about this one more time I will go insane. No I'm not excited at all, in fact I am quitting soon and getting as far away from this organization as possible."
What I do answer, after holding back my nausea: "Oh man! It is going to be so awesome! We are going to get so much done!! This office is great!"
One of the things I hate is the expectation to always be recruiting. In fact, it is our mantra. So, of course, when I am training new staff, I never get to just be myself; I put on my Optimistic Robot mask and blabber on about how great the job is. My poor trainees get used to talking about the most inane things and they get it drilled into their heads that this work is amazing and every person who works here loves to devote their whole lives to it. I feel bad that they are sucked into it, but hey, if they actually like this, then more power to them. Typical conversation B:
Trainee: "Is this job hard?"
What I want to answer: "Please, just go home right now. Trust me, you do not want to stick around here. It would make your and my evenings both much easier and more enjoyable if you quit right now."
What I do answer: "It's hard work, but it's soooo much fun! And it's so important! If we don't do this work, there is no way we can win on this issue. I love the people I work with and it's so worth it!!"
I have a really hard time mustering up the motivation to do anything for this organization, but I am trying to act as enthusiastic as possible so that they do not get rid of me before I ditch them, even though the conversations and interactions I have are almost unbearable. I may be developing a stomach ulcer from forcing back the nausea multiple times a day, but what can I say? I am good at faking it. ;-)
-The Actress
Room Available
The past few weeks have been a little sad. Some very good friends of mine have moved from Boston and from the house in Somerville we all stay in. I had to find someone to sublet for the summer for Meredith's room and she seems cool. She'll be in May 15th and I'm sure will become a character in our ever expending cast of Awkwardnaughts. Dave is moving to North Carolina, where he will STILL be writing for The AwkWord, but his absence will be a crushing blow to my fun quotient. Luckily I like my co-workers and well, needless to say, they are a never ending source for both fun times and awkward moments to blurb.
Dave's impending departure for the south has us on our second wild roommate chase in as many weeks. This craigslist aided process is awkward in and of itself. Lets' take a closer look.
First off the notion of trying to condense yourself down to a few paragraphs is pretty ridiculous. You can end up taking yourself too seriously and causing soon-to-be-homeless people everywhere to roll there eyes and click next or you can end up being the guy who writes "Room avail. downtown. $650 + utilities. No goldfish". Neither of these scenarios will produce results for your search.
After settling on what details your add should include and editing out those that are not necessary it's time to sit back and sift through the few dozen weird responses and scams to fine the few genuine people who actually read your add and are looking for a place in your area, not Turkestan.
Of these remaining applicants most will have too little personality or too many cats. The ones that show promise are then invited to come see the place... a meet and greet if you will. These are always... well you know what they are.
"Hey how's it goin'? This is the room, sorry it's a little messy right now. Any questions for me? Oh yeah I love to cook. Oh no, no cable just internet. What kind of roommate are you? Yeah, i guess that's kind of an odd question. (I can't tell if you like the place or not and I'm starting to repeat myself) Thanks for comin'. Oh here's my number. I'll walk you out. Oh yeah there's off street parking. Thanks again, yeah have a good one. I'll be in touch. bye."
I hope I don't have to do this again for a while. To Charlotte and Meredith who lived here, and Carney and all the others who stayed here for days or weeks at a time over the last few months I miss your company and all the antics. Awkward moments are better when shared with others.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Craigslist Thriller
Riding home on the train tonight, I couldn't help but notice all of the silly-looking couples getting ready for silly-looking sex. It got me thinking: how did all these people meet?
In modern times, it seems more and more people are turning to Craigslist to satisfy their needs. Of course, relying on a box full of wires and flashing lights to connect two living people can be tricky. And Craigslist posts are certainly not completely revealing of one's true identity.
So, in honor of the ambiguity of it all (and the inevitably silliness that comes from making an intercouple), here are a few things that you might not want to say on the first date:
- "So I see you took a few liberties on your personal profile."
- "I didn't know they made shirts in that size."
- "I hope you don't plan on making me have sex with you."
- "So, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow."
- "Do you mind if we go Dutch on the condoms tonight, baby?"
- "Oh you are way prettier than last night's date."
- "...Oh"
- "Sorry I'm late to the Sushi bar. I was on the John and had to make a Maki of my own."
- "How many roofies does it usually take?"
- "Wow, I'm not that desperate!"
... Love may in fact be more than a mouse click away. But awkward situations sure aren't
-Dave
Moen Girls
Its good to be back. I took a 2-week break from blogging, and have realized what an important part of my life pointing out awkward situations is.
And what a better way to get back into the palm-sweating swing of things than with what happened this morning...
I heard lesbian sex. Well, I think it was lesbian sex. It was sex, to be sure, but the lesbian bit depends on a self identity issue that I am not prepared to answer (its Jamaica Plain, MA- where census demographers truly earn their salary).
I was lying in bed getting ready to hop in the shower and get a start on the day (note: this was intended to be a normal in-and-out shower, not a scrub-and-tug). I sat up from bed, but heard a moan from the other room. Then another. And another.
By my powers of deductive reasoning, I figured that the two people I had caught smooching and groping at the kitchen table the night before were engaging in... well, each other. I would have been perfectly satisfied to go ahead with my shower anyway, but I am certain I read somewhere that showers are almost always involved in morning sex.
Imagine if the beast with two backs had opened up the shower curtain to see me standing there butt naked, smiling.
So I decided to stay in bed and let them ride it out. A few more moans, one or two hard bumps, and a long sigh later, and it seemed to be over. I skurried to the bathroom and threw some water on my face, coughing loudly to alert all potential lovers to my presence. Then back to my room to get dressed.
Better to be a little dirty than to ruin "the moment" for anyone else.
-Dave
Chopstick Lessons Part IV: Aw that's cute. Or is it?
The next morning I arrived for the lunch shift and Antonia was the lone server on the clock. She smiled tiredly at me as I walked past her to hang my coat. A few minutes later she cornered me in the back and told me she didn’t think it was going to work. She had spoke to a lawyer and it turns out there were a number of small issues that would most likely keep us from being married any time soon. I thought I’d be relieved but the news hit me more in a “huh, that’s too bad” kind of way. I teasingly asked her if we could still be friends and at first she didn’t get the sarcasm of what I was saying but the joke slowly washed over in synch with a smile. I wanted to give her a hug but didn’t have the courage to.
A few minutes later I was cleaning some wine glasses when I heard an unfamiliar laugh from the kitchen. I peeked around the corner to see who it was… kitchen uncle! Laughing? No way! I must be seeing / hearing things. Then I heard it again, and again I peeked around the corner. A Chinese kid who busses for us when he’s not in school was talking to the old man as he butchered chicken. Then I saw it, after the young guy had said something in a playful tone of voice kitchen uncle’s lips parted just slightly and a low “Ha. Ha.” boomed forward. Up until this point I had genuinely believed the old man was incapable of being happy. It’s cool to be wrong sometimes.
As the day went on I found myself thinking about Antonia and what could have been. I mean, I almost got married, shit. True it wasn’t exactly for traditional reasons but some of the mental images, though obviously highly romanticized, were quite enticing. Now whenever I’m around Antonia I feel as if my footing isn’t quite sure. I think I have a crush on her. I think the crush is just a byproduct of the fantastic images swirling in my head which resulted from her asking me a most ridiculous favor. I think I’m acting like a little boy and it’s pathetic. I think my coworkers see it and laugh at me while shaking their heads. I think I have a crush on her.
Fuck. I'm that guy.
fin
-Raw
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Chopstick Lessons Part III: and by 'I Do' I Mean 'What the Hell'
Of the seven servers at the restaurant three of them are women -all of them attractive and pleasant to work with but each with a completely different personality. The guys are pretty laid back, again each distinct but with a roughly similar sense of humor. There is plenty of joking and teasing getting flung around at any given moment but sometimes things can turn serious and they did for me this week.
Antonia is a very cute young lady with asian features whom hails from a Slavic country. She can seem confused at times but underneath her timid exterior is a brilliant young lady who is trying to figure out how to lead the life she wants and juggle the expectations of her homeland at the same time. A few days ago Antonia approached me during some down time and asked me, “Robert would you marry for money?”
I responded “No way, If I ever tie the knot it will be for love.”
She sighed and looked down at her toes. After a second she raised her head again and asked, “I mean would you marry me if I pay you, my visa is expire soon and I do not want to leave this country. If you yes you would be hero to me”. She explained a little bit more of the details to me but they were not really getting into my head, I was waiting for the big obvious glaring reason to not do it to rear its ugly head… it didn’t. I mean yeah I would have to stay married to her for 2 years so she could remain afterwards but that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep living my life and dating like normal. She was willing to pay me a small amount but it wasn’t about the money, she was obviously desperate for help so I told her I’d think about it. The funny thing is I’d already made up my mind to say yes.
That night I dreamt of kissing her. It was not a sexual dream it was just a nice pleasant kiss that was backed with a hefty amount of emotion. It was akin to a kiss you’d give your significant other on your wedding day. I woke up and for a second I was thinking that the proposition and the kiss were all a dream. Then I realized that, no, Antonia had actually asked me to marry her and I was going to tell her yes.
We had drinks after work to confirm my answer and discuss the details. I told her some background information about me and why I was okay with the idea and then I looked her in the eye and said, “yes, I’ll do it”. The look on her face was not quite what I expected at first. For an instant she looked like she didn’t believe me or that she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I gave her a wincing smile –the kind you give to someone when you’re asked a question and you reluctantly nod in the affirmative. Then it came, a pleasant smile laced heavily with gratitude. “Wow, right there,” I thought, “if all I get out of this is that one smile I’ll be okay with it.”
We then began the process of getting to know each other a little more. We each took turns aimlessly flinging questions at each other knowing that we needed to know everything to sell this act so we might as well ask anything. The topics jumped around from ideas of love, to places to travel. We discussed our backgrounds, and faults and personal philosophies but each time we scratched the surface of a topic we moved on –having no context to keep us on a linear conversational path.
I told her she was beautiful.
She blushed.
'If I’m going to marry a woman, for whatever reason, I’m going to tell her how beautiful she is every chance I got.' I’d decided –I was making a lot of decisions tonight.
We walked home towards the T stop and I told her I was going to stop in the restaurant to confirm something with our boss. She looked disappointed so I said screw it and walked her to the T. I was headed the same direction anyways and when I got on the T with her she smiled brightly and exclaimed “You come on train with me too!?” I smiled back and nodded. I wanted to wrap my arm around her but didn’t. We talked about who we’d invite and I was about to ask her what flavor wedding cake she would like when we got to my stop, I offered to ride home with her then backtrack but she said that’d be silly and I departed feeling strange. When I got to my final T stop I walked in to the nearest bar and ordered a shot, I threw it back, tipped the barkeep a buck and sparked a cigarette before I was even completely outside.
You see it in movies and comedy shows where people will take a drink when they hear crazy news to “take the edge off”. That was first time I had ever l had a drink literally for that purpose. I’m glad it worked long enough for me to fall asleep.
To be continued…
-Raw
Chopstick Lessons Part II: Tale of two Uncles
In many asian cultures it is customary to call people your parents age or in a position of authority auntie or uncle. This holds true at the Asian Bistro I work at. We have Sushi Uncle and Kitchen Uncle. Sushi Uncle is a mustachioed old man who moves with little wasted effort and ultra fine precision when making sushi and I often stand behind the bar watching him create beautiful food that he obviously takes pride in. Once he was in the kitchen and accidentally nudged a plate of dessert I had prepped. The maraschino cherry went rolling to the other side of the plate leaving a trail of cherry syrup behind and messing up my flawless presentation. He then peered around in both directions before using his chopsticks to place the cherry back where it belonged. He looked again to see if anyone had caught him and when he say me looking on he burst in to laughter and put his hand up as if to say “okay okay you caught me.” It’s the kind of playful attitude he displays all the time when offering up bites of left over maki or a slice of fish right off of the blade of his knife.
Kitchen Uncle is a whole other beast. His face is sagging like a mean mean bull dog and permanently scowling. His voice is always booming and cutting through the air like a dull knife through bone. His eyes release photons of contempt which the staff desperately try to evade at all cost. Never does he sound pleasant or happy with anyone or anything, even if he is just asking you “Veggie dumpling or Pork Dumpling?” As far as I can tell he’s saying “I’m going to cut you up with this cleaver and make dumplings out of YOU dipshit!” In fact I’m sure that’s what he’s thinking. Having to tell him something needs to be remade is a suicide mission. Sometimes the look on his face is so incredibly affected you’d think having to make the pad thai again with no “shrimps” causes him physical harm. When he leaves I always make it a point to say goodnight with a smile on my face hoping that he won’t cut the corners of my mouth with the aforementioned cleaver. When he’s gone the rest of the kitchen staff actually talks to us servers and seems to enjoy themselves and even though he can speak Chinese I often wonder if they even understand him when he’s barking at the walls. I guess Sushi Uncle and Kitchen Uncle are kind of the yin and yang of the restaurant. Wait no scratch that because in that philosophy both the yin and yang have redeeming traits. Wow, that’s too bad, it would have been a poetic way to end this post, instead I guess I just work with an asshole chef.
To be continued...
-Raw
Chopstick Lessons Part I
I have a day job. I serve people over priced Asian food at a “bistro” in metropolitan Boston. There’s a sushi bar and a wall that is a stone fountain. The typo peppered menu of decent asian favorites ranging from phở to pad thai and from crispy curry duck to kimchi steak is tiring to read but does somehow manage to hide the actual similarity of all the dishes. The restaurant could do a lot better if it stopped trying to be fine dining in the midst of so much glam and glitz of its neighborhood. The money saved on running the fountain alone would be enough to cover a bus boy’s pay twice over. Nix the bad asian techno, the leather-bound menu pretense, the bottle of Johny Walker Blue no one ever touches and the insane mark up on simple dishes like lo-mein and it could even be considered a gem.
Critique aside I like it. The cast that runs the place is as colorful as any motley crew. Staffed by Chinese cooks in the kitchen, an Indonesian and two Vietnamese managers and bussers and servers that hail from all over Asia not a day goes by where something interesting doesn’t happen. If the Vietnamese sushi chef and Chinese kitchen chef need to communicate they do so in english –which neither of them speak more than a few hundred words of. I may not be able to understand the words under the thick accents all the time but they seem to and for the most part things seem to run pretty smoothly. This kind of english-bridged conversation takes place constantly and I can’t help but derive joy from the awkwardness it creates.
Another quirk to the job is the blatantly obvious fact that I am the only caucasian employee. This can sometimes lead to humorous situations, and well yes, plenty of awkward moments.
My first day on the job we sat down at nine to eat a family style dinner of spicy chicken pieces in nameless sauce over rice with stir-fried vegetables on the side. A waitress who had been training me came out to hand us each utensils and deliver condiments to the table. She out stretched her arm one at a time, handing red sleeves of bamboo to each person. Chop stick, chop stick, chop stick, fork, chop stick, chop stick.
“Damn!” I thought. “ye have little faith.” I didn’t say anything, I may have grumbled under my breath a little but I just got up and got myself some chop sticks. I guess I couldn’t blame her for thinking whitey would prefer a fork. When I sat back down I doused my rice with a good portion of sriracha to spice up my food. The waitress looked first at my bowl, then at me, “You like spicy!?!?” she asked shocked.
“Damn!” I thought again, “Stereotypes are a bitch!”
I proceeded to add even more sriracha and chili oil just for good measure. I was determined to nip these false assumptions in the bud from day one. I also drank what seemed like 48 glasses of water that night. So they may know I can use chop sticks and can handle or even prefer spicy food but they probably also think I have a bladder problem.
To be continued…
-Raw
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