I had a Mormon salesman stop by today and solicit my wife for alarm service.
How amazing an act of commerce can dredge up so many feelings.
Previous to my move to the Midwest, I regarded Mormons fairly kindly. The only ones I had known were so wholesome, unfailingly polite, and fairly good-looking. Fast-forward to 2008...I get married October 13, 2008, in California to my talented, lovely, intelligent and beautiful wife. My former denomination (Catholicism) which taught me and my wife everything we know about monogamism and commitment have spent a fuck ton of money on making sure no other same-sex couples can do the same thing. So did the LDS.
So tonight I have been sitting around drinking a 5th of Evan Williams and looking at B52s videos and having a timequake. I think of my deceased mother's fascination with the South. The B-52s embody the age she would be now if she were still alive, and pull from the same timeframe of inspiration (the early to mid-60's). She killed herself at the age of 46, which was 1993. The other group I bridge the gap from the same time (1993) and place (Athens, GA) is REM, which had the hit "Losing My Religion" about the same time. I think I thought I saw you try. But that was just a dream.
And then I am 17, I am sitting in the Broad Ripple Branch of the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library reading Susie Bright's book talking about how "Connie lost her religion over that boy." Which my mother did. The song says so much. I am not buying an alarm system. I am questioning the theft of my weedwacker two days ago: Mormons are trying to sell me ADT-lite.
They, like the Catholics, do not understand they have said too much, not enough.
Just a dream.
Why do things seem so obvious and horrible to the depressed?
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
10 reasons why the Ignorati of Indiana have no idea what SJR-7 means
1. Gay people already use Medicaid and Medicare, if they are poor. You will pay for them no matter what. I am blessed to have an employer who generously offers domestic partner benefits. My insurance keeps my partner alive (genetic endocrine problem, not AIDS, btw.) That way I pay for her health care out of my salary I get from working, and she doesn't have to go on the dole and further strain the taxpayers of Indianapolis and the State of Indiana.
2. I cannot marry my partner. Defense of Marriage Act took care of that in the late 90's. Thanks for nothing, Bill Clinton. However, the language of this proposed amendment reads as follows:
This means they are further enforcing a law already on the books, and in paragraph b, they are talking about anyone (gay or straight) that is unmarried.
3. So why should straight people care about paragraph b? First, the state of OHIO passed this amendment and has found more money to throw at unnecessary court cases where a live-in boyfriend battered his live-in girlfriend, and because they were not married, he's getting away with it. Second, paragraph b uses a legal definition that is not defined: "incidents of marriage." No one can state what that means, therefore batterers can get away with assaulting their girlfriends, unmarried men may have no rights to the children they have produced outside of marriage even if they live with them, etc. It is too vague. It could mean anything. Even the person who drafted it, conservative legal expert Robert Bork has stated "Objections to this second sentence have convinced me that it is poorly drafted and causes needless controversy."
4. FOR THE EMPATHETIC AMONG YOU: My partner and I spent $2000 for some of the rights and responsibilities (1,049 state and federal, at last count) that straight couples get in Marion County for $18 and a woman's blood test. If this legislation passes, my family of origin--who are as enlightened as most of the more obtuse I've been lucky enough to encounter--can challenge or negate any of the legal documents we spent money on to protect our property and lives (Will, Living Will, Medical Power of Attorney, and Domestic Partnership Agreement) from said beings, many of whom I've had nothing to do with in over a decade.
5. And isn't that what's great about America? It's big enough for me and my partner, and all the rabid folks who believe the workingman John of the Gospel was the same mentally ill John of Patmos who wrote his schizophrenic visions in Revelation, and believe they were originally written in English. Or maybe German. Or that just because Leviticus says gay people are an abomination, that means you can still have shrimp cocktail and bacon (which is also an abomination) because those commands from G-D are outdated. Or that Sodom and Gomorrah was sinful because the people were into anal--instead of just being inhospitable and trying to rape his daughters who were by most accounts about as old as an 8th grader. But if you read on, you find Lot's daughters got him drunk and slept with him--so that's ok. Whatev. You believe what you want to. You are sleeping, with your eyes tightly closed. Whatever gets you through the night, kid.
6. These naked attempts at making this country a Western answer to the Taliban would have been spit on by the Founding Fathers, who were at best Deists. (Which doesn't mean Christian, just that they acknowledged there was maybe a (or some) supreme being(s)). Do you know what a Philistine is? Those are the people like you that actually allowed the Romans to nail Jesus to a tree. How come Jesus doesn't mention even once anything about homosexuality? If He were here, I'd like to think he would tell you what douchebags you are.
7. The only state that offers gay marriage is Massachusetts. Other states that offer civil unions or domestic partnership include CA, CT, DC, HI, MA, NJ, NH, VT, WA. Fun fact about New Hampshire is that while it is called Civil Union, it confers the same rights and responsibilities as marriage, but they called it something else. Live free or die, anyone?
8. Contrary to belief, marriage cannot and will never be legal to an animal or child for one simple reason: Animals and children, legally and according to common sense, cannot give consent. Ever wonder why you can't enter into a legal and binding contract until you are 18? That's why. NOT ABLE TO GIVE LEGAL CONSENT. So quit confusing pedophiles with gay people. Or those who have relations with animals. Two or more consenting adults can do whatever they want, because the Constitution says so. You don't like it, move to Ohio. That Bible interpretation = law works there. I'd still like to think Indiana is part of the United States. As much as our coins say, "In God We Trust" (which the early Christian Taliban put on there and "under God" into our Pledge of Allegiance in the first 60 years of the 20th c.) they first said "Liberty." Which means good fences make good neighbors. You want to abuse your kids with dogma that makes them hate and spit on people you deem lower than you: go ahead. It's a free country. And I'm sorry you feel/believe/live that way. BUT IT'S NONE OF MY BUSINESS UNTIL YOU TRY LIVING ALL OVER ME.
9. I am more than happy to move to a more enlightened place. I will sell my house for a pittance. I will make sure no longer one red cent I earn ends up in this state. Although I can't really do that, as red states suck at the federal teat that collects most of their taxes from the blue states and relocates them (for highway projects and other pork barrel spending). Like Indiana. I really don't need anything Lilly puts out anyway.
10. Free-loading, ignorant, and holier-than-thou, let me let you in on a little wisdom I learned as a kid at Sunday School: treat people as you wish to be treated, and you will reap what you sow. I wish you well, and goodbye. Goodbye to my high-5 figure salary you took taxes to support your cops and fire departments and schools from. Goodbye to my home ownership that made a difference in what used to be a dirty ghetto that was my neighborhood by the new Stadium. Goodbye to my wife who would be making 6 figures as an ER nurse practitioner. All of your arguments, fears, and prejudices fall apart in the cold, hard light of reason and rationality. My hope is that one day you see and accept it. But I'm not going to wait around or hold my breath.
2. I cannot marry my partner. Defense of Marriage Act took care of that in the late 90's. Thanks for nothing, Bill Clinton. However, the language of this proposed amendment reads as follows:
Section 38. (a) Marriage in Indiana consists only of the union of one man and one woman.
(b) This Constitution or any other Indiana law may not be construed to require that marital status or the legal incidents of marriage be conferred upon unmarried couples or groups.
This means they are further enforcing a law already on the books, and in paragraph b, they are talking about anyone (gay or straight) that is unmarried.
3. So why should straight people care about paragraph b? First, the state of OHIO passed this amendment and has found more money to throw at unnecessary court cases where a live-in boyfriend battered his live-in girlfriend, and because they were not married, he's getting away with it. Second, paragraph b uses a legal definition that is not defined: "incidents of marriage." No one can state what that means, therefore batterers can get away with assaulting their girlfriends, unmarried men may have no rights to the children they have produced outside of marriage even if they live with them, etc. It is too vague. It could mean anything. Even the person who drafted it, conservative legal expert Robert Bork has stated "Objections to this second sentence have convinced me that it is poorly drafted and causes needless controversy."
4. FOR THE EMPATHETIC AMONG YOU: My partner and I spent $2000 for some of the rights and responsibilities (1,049 state and federal, at last count) that straight couples get in Marion County for $18 and a woman's blood test. If this legislation passes, my family of origin--who are as enlightened as most of the more obtuse I've been lucky enough to encounter--can challenge or negate any of the legal documents we spent money on to protect our property and lives (Will, Living Will, Medical Power of Attorney, and Domestic Partnership Agreement) from said beings, many of whom I've had nothing to do with in over a decade.
5. And isn't that what's great about America? It's big enough for me and my partner, and all the rabid folks who believe the workingman John of the Gospel was the same mentally ill John of Patmos who wrote his schizophrenic visions in Revelation, and believe they were originally written in English. Or maybe German. Or that just because Leviticus says gay people are an abomination, that means you can still have shrimp cocktail and bacon (which is also an abomination) because those commands from G-D are outdated. Or that Sodom and Gomorrah was sinful because the people were into anal--instead of just being inhospitable and trying to rape his daughters who were by most accounts about as old as an 8th grader. But if you read on, you find Lot's daughters got him drunk and slept with him--so that's ok. Whatev. You believe what you want to. You are sleeping, with your eyes tightly closed. Whatever gets you through the night, kid.
6. These naked attempts at making this country a Western answer to the Taliban would have been spit on by the Founding Fathers, who were at best Deists. (Which doesn't mean Christian, just that they acknowledged there was maybe a (or some) supreme being(s)). Do you know what a Philistine is? Those are the people like you that actually allowed the Romans to nail Jesus to a tree. How come Jesus doesn't mention even once anything about homosexuality? If He were here, I'd like to think he would tell you what douchebags you are.
7. The only state that offers gay marriage is Massachusetts. Other states that offer civil unions or domestic partnership include CA, CT, DC, HI, MA, NJ, NH, VT, WA. Fun fact about New Hampshire is that while it is called Civil Union, it confers the same rights and responsibilities as marriage, but they called it something else. Live free or die, anyone?
8. Contrary to belief, marriage cannot and will never be legal to an animal or child for one simple reason: Animals and children, legally and according to common sense, cannot give consent. Ever wonder why you can't enter into a legal and binding contract until you are 18? That's why. NOT ABLE TO GIVE LEGAL CONSENT. So quit confusing pedophiles with gay people. Or those who have relations with animals. Two or more consenting adults can do whatever they want, because the Constitution says so. You don't like it, move to Ohio. That Bible interpretation = law works there. I'd still like to think Indiana is part of the United States. As much as our coins say, "In God We Trust" (which the early Christian Taliban put on there and "under God" into our Pledge of Allegiance in the first 60 years of the 20th c.) they first said "Liberty." Which means good fences make good neighbors. You want to abuse your kids with dogma that makes them hate and spit on people you deem lower than you: go ahead. It's a free country. And I'm sorry you feel/believe/live that way. BUT IT'S NONE OF MY BUSINESS UNTIL YOU TRY LIVING ALL OVER ME.
9. I am more than happy to move to a more enlightened place. I will sell my house for a pittance. I will make sure no longer one red cent I earn ends up in this state. Although I can't really do that, as red states suck at the federal teat that collects most of their taxes from the blue states and relocates them (for highway projects and other pork barrel spending). Like Indiana. I really don't need anything Lilly puts out anyway.
10. Free-loading, ignorant, and holier-than-thou, let me let you in on a little wisdom I learned as a kid at Sunday School: treat people as you wish to be treated, and you will reap what you sow. I wish you well, and goodbye. Goodbye to my high-5 figure salary you took taxes to support your cops and fire departments and schools from. Goodbye to my home ownership that made a difference in what used to be a dirty ghetto that was my neighborhood by the new Stadium. Goodbye to my wife who would be making 6 figures as an ER nurse practitioner. All of your arguments, fears, and prejudices fall apart in the cold, hard light of reason and rationality. My hope is that one day you see and accept it. But I'm not going to wait around or hold my breath.
Friday, December 14, 2007
I'm Afraid of Americans
I got talking to a friend of mine a few months ago about things we've gotten used to living here in the United States.
Middle aged suicides are up, junkies and perverts abound. Everyone we know is at the very least neurotic. Why?
My hypothesis is that we as a nation are the dregs of other continents. The only reason any of our ancestors came here is because they couldn't make it in Europe or Africa or Asia. Sure, how are you going to make it in the middle of wars and political upheaval: I'm not denying those things were a strong prelude to most of my relatives fleeing Alsace-Lorraine and Northern Italy.
However, the New World was a dumping ground for the mentally ill. Recent statistics show that most prisoners suffer from some variant of mental illness. The entire state of Georgia was a penal colony: Atlanta holds the Olympics and some one sets them up the bomb. This didn't happen in Lake Placid. Look at the law that makes corporations people, and then see those "people" behave like sociopaths: they will do anything to make a buck, without regard to morals or fairness.
There is a phrase in America that gets tossed out in the childrearing arena so often it's almost a caricature of itself:
Snotty 13 year old denied a Wii: But it's not fair. Billy's parents bought him a Wii and he gets C's.
Exasperated parent: Well, you know what kid? Life's not fair.
True enough. But how often does that statement get drilled into kid's head in Somalia? They can obviously look around and see that life is very unfair. But we as Americans are supposed to be different.
The ultimate protection from the unfairness of all our mental illnesses, whether it be as unintentional as ignorance or as mean-spirited as sociopathy, is our Constitution. Anyone that would dare to say civil liberties and/or the Constitution is "just a piece of paper" or that we have to be prepared to protect ourselves is too mentally ill to hold office.
Keep that in mind when you go to vote next year. Don't support a member of a party that would even utter that or act that way. Acceptance of any of it is un-American.
Middle aged suicides are up, junkies and perverts abound. Everyone we know is at the very least neurotic. Why?
My hypothesis is that we as a nation are the dregs of other continents. The only reason any of our ancestors came here is because they couldn't make it in Europe or Africa or Asia. Sure, how are you going to make it in the middle of wars and political upheaval: I'm not denying those things were a strong prelude to most of my relatives fleeing Alsace-Lorraine and Northern Italy.
However, the New World was a dumping ground for the mentally ill. Recent statistics show that most prisoners suffer from some variant of mental illness. The entire state of Georgia was a penal colony: Atlanta holds the Olympics and some one sets them up the bomb. This didn't happen in Lake Placid. Look at the law that makes corporations people, and then see those "people" behave like sociopaths: they will do anything to make a buck, without regard to morals or fairness.
There is a phrase in America that gets tossed out in the childrearing arena so often it's almost a caricature of itself:
Snotty 13 year old denied a Wii: But it's not fair. Billy's parents bought him a Wii and he gets C's.
Exasperated parent: Well, you know what kid? Life's not fair.
True enough. But how often does that statement get drilled into kid's head in Somalia? They can obviously look around and see that life is very unfair. But we as Americans are supposed to be different.
The ultimate protection from the unfairness of all our mental illnesses, whether it be as unintentional as ignorance or as mean-spirited as sociopathy, is our Constitution. Anyone that would dare to say civil liberties and/or the Constitution is "just a piece of paper" or that we have to be prepared to protect ourselves is too mentally ill to hold office.
Keep that in mind when you go to vote next year. Don't support a member of a party that would even utter that or act that way. Acceptance of any of it is un-American.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Don LaRose, or, Why I Avoid Leaving Indianapolis City Limits
Some of you may have heard the story of an Arkansas preacher kidnapped in 1975 by satanists by the name of Don LaRose. Then he disappeared again in 1980 from Hammond, IN. There is even a website that explains his "amazing story" (on every page). This is an excerpt from Benton County Daily Record online:
I'll be the first to admit that ultimately this is the story of some flim-flam man that used the Word to lure in women and keep his sociopathic mind engaged for few decades. Big whoop. Just another in a long line of PT Barnum-types falling all over themselves to prove suckers are born every minute. But there is a darker side to all this.
I never leave Marion County unless I am forced to. Even then, I prefer it to be on a jet plane. 'Why?' you ask. Simple: "they" get you as soon as you leave the city. Between the satan-worshippers, preachers as John-Wayne-Gacy-type ringleaders, tweaking meth heads, Klansman, serial-killers picking up drifters along the highway, and alien abductions, there is no reason to leave. Ever. Even the most rational of my concerns is I don't leave because of the tornadoes. I would like to think living downtown cuts out a lot of problems. The skyscrapers provide man-made mountains that break up the wind shear that would otherwise whip into a tornado that would flatten my house. Thanks Chase Tower!
I really avoid leaving downtown all together. I know my neighbors, I know my downtown district cops, and the homeless folks that might want to rip me off know I don't have anything worth stealing and will only give them food if they ask me for a handout. So a few of them do crack or drink too much. Response time in my 'hood: 3 minutes.
Sylvia Likens couldn't happen in my neighborhood. Put your tractor beam on that, Martians.
"Lee Roy Floyd was a member of the Hammond Baptist Church's Deacon Board for 45 years and knew LaRose. A reporter with the Times of Northwest Indiana newspaper interviewed Floyd on Tuesday."The night before he disappeared, he was speaking to a group in the church, and in the middle of his sermon he stopped talking and looked at the back of the room," Floyd said. "No one else who turned around saw anything, but LaRose later claimed he had seen one of the Satanists through a window outside.
"And the next day he left. He was gone," Floyd said."
I'll be the first to admit that ultimately this is the story of some flim-flam man that used the Word to lure in women and keep his sociopathic mind engaged for few decades. Big whoop. Just another in a long line of PT Barnum-types falling all over themselves to prove suckers are born every minute. But there is a darker side to all this.
I never leave Marion County unless I am forced to. Even then, I prefer it to be on a jet plane. 'Why?' you ask. Simple: "they" get you as soon as you leave the city. Between the satan-worshippers, preachers as John-Wayne-Gacy-type ringleaders, tweaking meth heads, Klansman, serial-killers picking up drifters along the highway, and alien abductions, there is no reason to leave. Ever. Even the most rational of my concerns is I don't leave because of the tornadoes. I would like to think living downtown cuts out a lot of problems. The skyscrapers provide man-made mountains that break up the wind shear that would otherwise whip into a tornado that would flatten my house. Thanks Chase Tower!
I really avoid leaving downtown all together. I know my neighbors, I know my downtown district cops, and the homeless folks that might want to rip me off know I don't have anything worth stealing and will only give them food if they ask me for a handout. So a few of them do crack or drink too much. Response time in my 'hood: 3 minutes.
Sylvia Likens couldn't happen in my neighborhood. Put your tractor beam on that, Martians.
Monday, November 12, 2007
(s)election
Greg Ballard, [insert patriotic rah-rah bs here], just got elected mayor of Indianapolis. In addition, the people of Indianapolis chose to hand back the city-council to smug, good-ol-boy Republicans. Which is better, I have to guess, in the wisdom of the crowd, than smug, good-ol-boy Democrats.
It concerns me that people in this town are so shallow. We tried to analyze what gives this town such a bad "vibe." Empirically, it is this shallowness.
In Hollywood/LA, they make whole feature-length films about the shallowness. And to that I say, "Well, at least it's glamourous."
Here, the shallowness is different. From a very early age, it seems like everyone gets divided very quickly into their little pigeonholes: you're korean/black/white/white trash/of some ethnic decent--over there. you're catholic/protestant/jewish--you stay in that corner. colts fans--over there. army--yeah we got a spot for you here. get back: you support the navy--find another spot. Of course, this applies to Republicans/Democrats too.
This works out great for the do-nothings we keep hiring to run the joint. Whip everyone into a froth about Bart Peterson for raising taxes. He's a Democrat, so he can't be trusted with fiscal matters. Get in your hole and start cheering for the winning team!
To which I say: the dude dragged this city kicking and screaming into the 19th century. He finally had the balls to say the sewers haven't been updated in 100 years, we can't afford the luxury of 9 seperate governments running Indy, three police departments, and by the way, you can't discriminate against gay people and veterans in housing or employment. He got a nice new stadium built, the canal expanded, and put seed money with neighborhood development corporations to slowly bring back burnt-out downtown neighborhoods. But whoops, had to raise taxes. Too bad he used the state's antiquated and unequal methods for doing so.
So here come the Republicans to save us. They won't raise taxes (until they do). They won't put any money into the arts. They won't keep civilization going by protecting the homos from smiling discrimination. Oh happy day! I hope I get some trickle down monies from the republican-connected businessman's paradise/cultural gulag we're about to become. Again.
Because that's the long and short of it, isn't it? Government isn't about the people it tries to protect and give enough freedom and opportunity to live a decent life. It's about how much power you can wrest away from an opponent, how much money you can drain out of a tax base to make more money for your team, and think you are morally superior because you go to church every Sunday.
And as for allowing anyone near the government's money, the Republicans that run the state have an awesome ability for reading spreadsheets: the tax assessment the state proscribes is what brought down Peterson, and when Gov. Mitch Daniels was the Budget Director at the White House, he said the Iraq War would cost like, $2 billion, tops. Don't even get me started about how he walked away from the IPL workers retirement meltdown smelling like a rose.
It concerns me that people in this town are so shallow. We tried to analyze what gives this town such a bad "vibe." Empirically, it is this shallowness.
In Hollywood/LA, they make whole feature-length films about the shallowness. And to that I say, "Well, at least it's glamourous."
Here, the shallowness is different. From a very early age, it seems like everyone gets divided very quickly into their little pigeonholes: you're korean/black/white/white trash/of some ethnic decent--over there. you're catholic/protestant/jewish--you stay in that corner. colts fans--over there. army--yeah we got a spot for you here. get back: you support the navy--find another spot. Of course, this applies to Republicans/Democrats too.
This works out great for the do-nothings we keep hiring to run the joint. Whip everyone into a froth about Bart Peterson for raising taxes. He's a Democrat, so he can't be trusted with fiscal matters. Get in your hole and start cheering for the winning team!
To which I say: the dude dragged this city kicking and screaming into the 19th century. He finally had the balls to say the sewers haven't been updated in 100 years, we can't afford the luxury of 9 seperate governments running Indy, three police departments, and by the way, you can't discriminate against gay people and veterans in housing or employment. He got a nice new stadium built, the canal expanded, and put seed money with neighborhood development corporations to slowly bring back burnt-out downtown neighborhoods. But whoops, had to raise taxes. Too bad he used the state's antiquated and unequal methods for doing so.
So here come the Republicans to save us. They won't raise taxes (until they do). They won't put any money into the arts. They won't keep civilization going by protecting the homos from smiling discrimination. Oh happy day! I hope I get some trickle down monies from the republican-connected businessman's paradise/cultural gulag we're about to become. Again.
Because that's the long and short of it, isn't it? Government isn't about the people it tries to protect and give enough freedom and opportunity to live a decent life. It's about how much power you can wrest away from an opponent, how much money you can drain out of a tax base to make more money for your team, and think you are morally superior because you go to church every Sunday.
And as for allowing anyone near the government's money, the Republicans that run the state have an awesome ability for reading spreadsheets: the tax assessment the state proscribes is what brought down Peterson, and when Gov. Mitch Daniels was the Budget Director at the White House, he said the Iraq War would cost like, $2 billion, tops. Don't even get me started about how he walked away from the IPL workers retirement meltdown smelling like a rose.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Nostalgia
Since Halloween is but a bump in the road to Christmas for retailers (the local Kmart I am forced to run to occasionally already has decorations for sale in Seasonal), I got thinking about holidays. More specifically, It's a Wonderful Life, starring Jimmy Stewart.
His family and tour through happier times keeps him from offing himself. I can't identify with this at all. It occurred to me today while talking to Cat about scheduling for time off that holidays are now meaningless to me. The only family I have to celebrate with, other than being an walk-on at friends' celebrations, is Cat, my in-laws, and my sister. And if you think for a second that I am not one to get all emotional and sappy about holidays, Sis could be an extra in a movie about robots NOT discovering their humanity.
My in-laws (Cat's sister and mommy) are religious people. And I have no qualms whatsoever about spending time with them. They take the time to make family time/holidays special, even if it is small and quiet. Sis and I, when we were outcasts and alone on the East Coast, just drove up and down River Road in Pennsylvania and ate at Chinese restaurants (only places guaranteed to be open). I would rather work and make double-time.
But most importantly, I was trying to remember back to a time for which I would be nostalgic. The 90's? Hmm...Dad came out, I came out, had psychotic girlfriends, had a few dissociative moments myself, my mom killed herself. Stopped seeing my dad around the middle of them, which is a positive thing, but not something to get all squishy inside about. Something I Can Never Have by Nine Inch Nails would pretty much be the theme song.
The 80's? Reaganomics took its toll on our little family. My parents, being conservative Catholics, were a one-income family, which spelled disaster in 1982-1983. Ever see an FBI agent heat his house with a fireplace and a kerosene heater? Going to sleep with your coat on and your Dad works for the government in a professional, need-a-college-degree-type job? Very sad. Even sadder is culturally what we were forced to wear and do to our hair. Crispy bangs anyone? What am I going to get nostalgic over? Billy Ocean songs? The Cories? Maybe The Goonies, but I really have to be high and in a mood. God Save the Queen by the Sex Pistols or maybe We're a Happy Family by the Ramones (if we're feeling perky) would be appropriate mood music.
The 70's? I can't really say I remember it very much. The only thing I really remember is how easy it was to put on my red courdoroy bell-bottoms with my shoes already on. And the hostages being released from the Embassy in Iran. Again, nothing to get squishy about.
Does this mean I want to off myself? No, that's not it at all. Do I hold out some kind of crazy hope that an angel or messenger from some imaginary friend in the sky will come and change my mind about how ridiculous everything seems? Of course not.
I watch people get excited about football, baseball, music, holidays, family, Jebus and the Big Daddy, beer, sex, and all kinds of preposterous things and I can't help but think: My word, was Jean-Paul Sartre just in it for the cigarettes, fast cars, and paychecks?
What keeps people going? Children, I suppose, would give me something to get excited about. I like my dog. I like talking to my sister and having Cat in my life. So I would have to say that yes, love does make my world go round. Love is a vacation from fear: of loneliness, death, isolation.
I don't have to celebrate this on Christmas or Valentine's Day or Thanksgiving. I tell everyone important to me everyday that I love them or demonstrate it in some way. Every day is a holiday with them around. Think about what would happen if they were gone tomorrow, and it isn't hard.
Theme songs for these happy daily occurences:
Cat = I've Been Waiting for You by the Pixies (Neil Young cover)
Sis = My Sister by Juliana Hatfield
All the rest of the homies = Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode
His family and tour through happier times keeps him from offing himself. I can't identify with this at all. It occurred to me today while talking to Cat about scheduling for time off that holidays are now meaningless to me. The only family I have to celebrate with, other than being an walk-on at friends' celebrations, is Cat, my in-laws, and my sister. And if you think for a second that I am not one to get all emotional and sappy about holidays, Sis could be an extra in a movie about robots NOT discovering their humanity.
My in-laws (Cat's sister and mommy) are religious people. And I have no qualms whatsoever about spending time with them. They take the time to make family time/holidays special, even if it is small and quiet. Sis and I, when we were outcasts and alone on the East Coast, just drove up and down River Road in Pennsylvania and ate at Chinese restaurants (only places guaranteed to be open). I would rather work and make double-time.
But most importantly, I was trying to remember back to a time for which I would be nostalgic. The 90's? Hmm...Dad came out, I came out, had psychotic girlfriends, had a few dissociative moments myself, my mom killed herself. Stopped seeing my dad around the middle of them, which is a positive thing, but not something to get all squishy inside about. Something I Can Never Have by Nine Inch Nails would pretty much be the theme song.
The 80's? Reaganomics took its toll on our little family. My parents, being conservative Catholics, were a one-income family, which spelled disaster in 1982-1983. Ever see an FBI agent heat his house with a fireplace and a kerosene heater? Going to sleep with your coat on and your Dad works for the government in a professional, need-a-college-degree-type job? Very sad. Even sadder is culturally what we were forced to wear and do to our hair. Crispy bangs anyone? What am I going to get nostalgic over? Billy Ocean songs? The Cories? Maybe The Goonies, but I really have to be high and in a mood. God Save the Queen by the Sex Pistols or maybe We're a Happy Family by the Ramones (if we're feeling perky) would be appropriate mood music.
The 70's? I can't really say I remember it very much. The only thing I really remember is how easy it was to put on my red courdoroy bell-bottoms with my shoes already on. And the hostages being released from the Embassy in Iran. Again, nothing to get squishy about.
Does this mean I want to off myself? No, that's not it at all. Do I hold out some kind of crazy hope that an angel or messenger from some imaginary friend in the sky will come and change my mind about how ridiculous everything seems? Of course not.
I watch people get excited about football, baseball, music, holidays, family, Jebus and the Big Daddy, beer, sex, and all kinds of preposterous things and I can't help but think: My word, was Jean-Paul Sartre just in it for the cigarettes, fast cars, and paychecks?
What keeps people going? Children, I suppose, would give me something to get excited about. I like my dog. I like talking to my sister and having Cat in my life. So I would have to say that yes, love does make my world go round. Love is a vacation from fear: of loneliness, death, isolation.
I don't have to celebrate this on Christmas or Valentine's Day or Thanksgiving. I tell everyone important to me everyday that I love them or demonstrate it in some way. Every day is a holiday with them around. Think about what would happen if they were gone tomorrow, and it isn't hard.
Theme songs for these happy daily occurences:
Cat = I've Been Waiting for You by the Pixies (Neil Young cover)
Sis = My Sister by Juliana Hatfield
All the rest of the homies = Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The madness of crappy tipping has infected our local millionaires!
On a report from a server at a local eatery downtown (hint: a spinoff of a very venerable and long-lived steakhouse), the crappy-tipping bug has bit and won't let go.
Twelve Indinanapolis Colts players joined a very famous quarterback for a night of drinks and snacks at said location on Sunday night. After keeping the restaurant open 3 hours past closing, our source informs us that he waved and smiled goodbye to the players. One player, (hint: FA, TE, 6'5", 230#) was gracious enough to pay for his teammates with his credit card. When my source locked the door behind them and looked at his slip, he lost it.
For 3 hours working over, he and his coworker made $2.13*3 + 50. Divided by two. BEFORE taxes, that's $9.40/hr. Which is all well and good for say, third-world unskilled labor, a shift manager at a fast food chain, or even a late-night hash-slinging queen at a truckstop in Winslow, Arizona. But this is a fine-dining establishment. It doesn't fit any of the above scenarios.
For an over $600 bill and party of 12, that is an insult. It is an 8% tip. EVERYONE knows you tip 15%-20%. And if you aren't a sh*theel, parties of 6 or more should be tipping 18%. If you are fitting all the criteria above, PLUS making the servers stay over when all the chairs are up in the restaurant and they stay open for you anyway, PLUS you all make more money than doctors, the bare minimum tip in this situation would have to have been $120+ range.
So the Colts have now joined the ranks of Conseco guards. F*** those cheap SOBs.
Even Pacers' players tip better than that.
Twelve Indinanapolis Colts players joined a very famous quarterback for a night of drinks and snacks at said location on Sunday night. After keeping the restaurant open 3 hours past closing, our source informs us that he waved and smiled goodbye to the players. One player, (hint: FA, TE, 6'5", 230#) was gracious enough to pay for his teammates with his credit card. When my source locked the door behind them and looked at his slip, he lost it.
For 3 hours working over, he and his coworker made $2.13*3 + 50. Divided by two. BEFORE taxes, that's $9.40/hr. Which is all well and good for say, third-world unskilled labor, a shift manager at a fast food chain, or even a late-night hash-slinging queen at a truckstop in Winslow, Arizona. But this is a fine-dining establishment. It doesn't fit any of the above scenarios.
For an over $600 bill and party of 12, that is an insult. It is an 8% tip. EVERYONE knows you tip 15%-20%. And if you aren't a sh*theel, parties of 6 or more should be tipping 18%. If you are fitting all the criteria above, PLUS making the servers stay over when all the chairs are up in the restaurant and they stay open for you anyway, PLUS you all make more money than doctors, the bare minimum tip in this situation would have to have been $120+ range.
So the Colts have now joined the ranks of Conseco guards. F*** those cheap SOBs.
Even Pacers' players tip better than that.
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