Ramblings for the Morning (6/17/05)

Ok, one more post before heading for the bus of the sky (or my Northwest flight).
Tom Cruise proposes to Katie Holmes on top of the Eiffel Tower.
In Paris? That's so cliche. Seriously though, I hope they're happy. The whole thing really does feel like a publicity stunt, but who cares? It's their lives to do with what they want, and we should just respect that. My question is will sections of Dianetics by L. Ron Hubbard be read at the wedding? Now, media hounds, go find some real news.
Minnesota now is now "7th" among states with lakes.
Apparently a new study was done where if a body of water could be seen with a sattelite, it was counted in this study. So, which state is now numero uno when it comes to bodies of water? It's Texas! That's right, the Lone Star State has the most amount of bodies of water (man-made or otherwise) that can be seen from a sattelite, thus it has around 370,000. My question is this: Did they count every pool that was shaped like a boot if it was big enough? Honestly, without the lakes, what does Minnesota have that it can pride itself on? "Come to Minnesota, land of passive-agressive tendencies." No, that doesn't work. How about, "Minnesota, we're right by Canada!" We'll let's just wait and see how this plays out.
The incredibly violent and cute cartoon.
Holy cow. The cartoon Happy Tree Friends is incredibly violent with cutesy characters. You see these little squirrels or Lumpy the Moose, and your first thought is, "Awww. Cuuuuttte." Then someone's face is crushed by a sign, or an eyeball is cut in place of a lemon, and that feeling turns to utter dread. In that way, it's the perfect allegory for someone learning the truth about modern American society. On the outside, it appears to be a wonderous place, but once immersed in it, society begins to eat away at your rose-colored glasses....Sorry, went off on a tangent. Check out the cartoon, but make sure you have a strong stomach.
It must be a slow news day in New York.
The cover story of the New York Post is about a girl whose yearbook picture is bad. That's not really worthy of the cover story. There's war, death, and other unhappy and major events going on, and the Post is worried about one bad photo? Hey, where the heck were you when I got my first license picture? Where were you when most of America was getting its yearbook photos taken? This is not cover story material. What about the former Klansman who fell ill during his trial? How about the fact that U.S. launched another big operation in West Iraq? No, that's just not as important as an 11 year old girl with a bad yearbook photo. Sorry doctors who cured cancer. You're relegated to page 15, because the Post has a picture of two dancing seals. Top story tonight: Seals dance in circles! see pages 1,3, & 4!
I got (more) hatemail.
It's true, it's true. A person known as "Super Republican" (with the power of PORK SPENDING!) sent me an email about how people like me are the reason this country is falling apart. Why? Because I made fun of the fact that I was invited to this town hall meeting. I'm sorry, I didn't realize the humor makes me unAmerican. Hey, do we still have those camps in California? We could round up every single comedian in the world and put them in those camps. But wait, it would have to be anyone who makes a joke, so that means Republican and Democratic pundits are going too. Wow, this could rival the Holocaust. Look, I'm just a guy putting his opinion out there. You don't have to like it, and you don't have to read it, but why take the time (at 1 in the morning no less) to write an angry email about how I am going to, "burn in Hell," and how my making fun of the fact that the current government thinks that I am a senior citizen (which is a problem in my honest opinion) means that I am, "unpatriotic." And why does every person who argues for this administration use, "If you don't love it, then leave it"? Look, I like this country. I just dislike the people in it. I like the amber waves of grain. I dislike the greedy corporations that rape those waves. Our government is supposed to be the greatest in the world, but then how is it that they think I'm 65? How is it that they treat their voters like second class citizens? I'm just making observations here. That shouldn't mean that I "hate America," Super Republican.
A new survey shows that people don't want to go out to the movies anymore.
Many of them said that it is "too far to go." That's a commentary on the state of the U.S, folks. The movie theater is too far to go? This survey was done in major cities. They cited New York, Los Angeles, Dallas, Chicago, Miami, and Seattle. How can the movie theatre be too far away, when there's one every few blocks. A majority of those asked also said it would just be easier to wait until the film is on television. I don't know about the rest of you, but I really do love (and I'm using "love" here) going to the movies. There's something about it. It's why I get so mad when people treat it like they're watching television. There's a magic that happens in the movie theater that doesn't happen on a television screen. It's like being locked away from the world. So it saddens me that people feel that the movie theater is just too far for them.
And finally: School's officially out.
Yep, the students are all on summer break. I already don't hear from them anymore. The jury's out on if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Many of them have taken off on adventures out of this country. Good for them. Have fun while you're young, because when you enter the working world, life starts to move faster.
Ok, off to the airport.

Secret Agent Man

I know he won't like this, but what the hell. I don't think he'll ever read it.
I am convinced that my father is a secret agent or at least working for one of the big three of the government (namely CIA, FBI, or NSA).
Ok, consider this evidence:
1. He was (and still is) always traveling. He's a history professor, but he was always out of the country on "necessary trips." That's really suspicious to me. When I was in college, he started being invited to the Vatican to, according to him, "act as a judge in their film festival." Now, my father is a German Jew. He came to this country in 1938. Why would the beacon of Catholicism ask for him to judge Christian films? That's like asking Evander Holyfield to judge a Ballet competition (Yes, I know he's on that dance show, but he's competing there).
It's not just the Vatican, however. When I was younger, he would go to Germany to teach classes. He went to Moscow (I don't remember what for, but I believe it was a conference). He spent alot of time in England, which leads me to....
2. A good deal of his friends are former spies or involved with the "Sanitation Department". Ok, I can't really name names (because they could get in trouble, or I could get in trouble), but I heard all these stories about how this guy was a spy for England, this guy has worked for the CIA for years, etc, etc, etc. One person, we'll just call him Nicky, introduced himself to me like this:
"Hello, I'm [Nicky]. I'm an old friend of your fathers. I used to be a spy in the British government."
How is that not suspicious? And of course, it would be easy to remain a spy if you just tell everyone you are. (I mean who would believe you?)
Nicky is not the only person who's quite suspicious. There's Mr. M, a Caribbean man who owns a car that rivals James Bond's. This man constantly refers to my father as, "boss," and seems to always be there when my father is in trouble. Not too long ago, my father got a ticket in Harlem. One cop pushed him forward, and the other cop tagged him and ticketed him. Mr. M took my father to court, did most of the talking, and got my father out of the ticket. All he needs is a bowler that can cut off heads, and he's Oddjob.
Another associate is Mr. C, who is somehow tied to "Sanitation Department" (don't make me spell it out for you, or we might have a MOB scene). Every once in a while, my father talks about asking him for a favor. It kinda creeps me out.
3. His last few books have been about the CIA and the FBI. He wrote a very successful novel called I was a Communist for the FBI! (Buy it now, kids!) His latest work deals with George Orwell and his ties to the CIA. I remember when I was in high school that he was considering writing a book for the NSA after being invited to one of their conferences. Hell, for a short time, I was a part of ASIS (American Society of Industrialized Security). I went to their conference in St. Louis, and when several people saw my name was Leab, they asked me how my father was doing. That was creepy. He now edits a journal dealing with Communism. I tell you, I really wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be an agent.
4. He looks like an agent. Ok, the man wears sunglasses twenty-four hours a day. I can remember going to several films with him where he wore his sunglasses, because he "forgot" his real ones. Come to think of it, he would sit on the aisle and leave during the film to, "get more popcorn," and would return with nothing. Movie Theatres make great meeting places....Just a thought....Anyway, he has these glasses. He wears these hats that scream, "This man is a former agent!!!" Ever seen Hopscotch? My father dresses like the Walter Matthau character. He has the coat, the hat, and the glasses. He walks in such a way that is very stealthy at times, and he can move through rooms without being noticed. He has this ability (and maybe it's because he's a dad) to listen to a phone conversation without ever being noticed. His television is constantly on C-SPAN as if he is waiting for his signal. All William Black has to do is touch his nose three times, and my father is off to the Vatican. I don't know. I sometimes think the whole historian thing is a perfect cover.
5. The man has the most suspicious stories. When I was kid, he drove up to Connecticut to go to a meeting. He took the dog with him. It was snowing that night and apparently, according to him mind you, the roads were really bad. Now while he was in Connecticut, he flipped his car. He managed to land on his wheels, however, so he kept going. The dog, however, was traumatized. She would never go near a car again without peeing herself (I'm not kidding). He says it was because the roads were slick, but the car looked like it had been hit. We joke in my family that he is a bad driver, because he did not learn to drive until he was 42 (again, so he says). However, I sometimes look at his accidents, and my mind starts seeing that his stories sometimes can't add up. It's impossible for someone to be in the wrong place at the wrong time for so many occurences.
Another time I went to Germany with him. He had a very small, very spartan apartment. He got into an accident on the Autobahn while I was there. He ended up being gone that day for over ten hours. How is that possible? When he visited me before leaving, he was with two rather tough looking policemen. I think they were escorting him to meet a man. He says they were questioning him. I don't buy it. They looked very uncomfortable and slightly scared. It was odd.
and finally, 6. The man gets things done! Holy cow, he almost never fails. He started a late run for the school board and won in almost a landslide. (I sense ballot stuffing....Just like Kennedy!) He once led a revolt in the Detroit airport when the flight he was on was canceled, and they tried to screw the passengers. Legend has it that he got up on a desk and started screaming to other passengers to follow his lead. (I sense organizing....Just like Hoffa!) He seems to have the ability to walk into a room, shut the door, and walk out twenty minutes later with everyone on his side. Is he James Bond? No. That person can't be real anyway, but he has this ability to make people see his point of view. In recent years, he's had to resort to raising his voice now and then, but it still gets the job done. It's amazing and kind of frightening. It's almost as if he did a background check on my wife and her family before meeting them. He knew alot for only one conversation. Maybe he sent out his network, I don't know.
As he get older, I see my father relaxing into a "Charlie" type position. He's the voice and the brains, and he sends the younger folk out to do the work.
So, if you see him, watch out. He might be listening to your phone calls, he might know more about your signifcant others than you do. If I don't post in the next few days, look for me at Gitmo, or maybe in the Hudson.... (speaking of which, I will be out of town for the next few days, so look for my next post on Monday.)

An Open Letter to Teachers, Corporations, and More...

Dear Anyone (teachers, corporations, etc) who uses Power Point,
I am so sick and tired of these terrible presentations. As of this moment at 11:25 PM on June 16, 2005, I officially am making a new rule regarding Power Point: No one can now create a presentation where they sit there and just read what they wrote to the crowd. In the class I am taking this summer to finish my Master's degree, the woman teaching the class has used Power Point twice already (we've only had two classes including tonight). In both cases, she clicked through the screens and just read what was written. Here's what I mean:
(Teacher clicks in screen 1. It reads, "What's a research hypothesis?")
"Ok, so what's a research hypothesis?"
(Teacher clicks to screen 2. It reads, "It states an expected relationship or difference between two variables.)
"It states an expected relationship or difference between two variables." (and this goes on for over an hour. An hour!)
Nothing was added to it, no questions were allowed, and the students were not allowed to discuss the points until the presentation was over. That is NOT a proper use of Power Point. It is supposed to add to what you are speaking about, not be the only thing you talk about. This is not limited to only the education world. This goes for the Engineers at Boston Scientific. I saw your presentation on CNBC last year. All your man did was read the different screens to the crowd and television audience. It made you look foolish, and it embarrassed me.
Look, I have used Power Point in my classroom. However, I didn't just read through each screen and keep moving. No, no, no, NO! That's boring to the audience, and it means that the presentation is pointless. That's like just standing in front of the room and reading the book. How do people learn that way. When you just read instead of expanding, you make the audience look like they are incapable of understanding what you are talking about. Don't make your shareholders, or students, or whatever feel that way. You'll lose them. That's bad for business, people.
All you have to do is banter. That's it. Don't just read what's written on the screen, add to it, have a dialogue with your audience. Keep it interesting, otherwise it's pointless and boring.
Thanks for your time, and I hope this new rule works for you.
Best,
Disgruntled Luddite (Leab)

The Jumper

Anyone who has been reading this blog might remember when I talked about modern art. Well, once again, an artist has done something completely different, and it has gotten him in trouble. Mr. Skarbakka's decency has been called into question, he apparently has received death threats already, and he's not done. Now, I mentioned before that modern art is really not about the piece, but about the story that explains the piece. Mr. Skarbakka (whose piece is called, ironically, "Life Goes On") is jumping off of a building and taking pictures to try and figure out what the people in the World Trade Center buildings were thinking before they jumped.
To me, this sounds more like a psychological experiment instead of an art project, but the key to modern art, one artist told me, is to push the boundaries of what makes people feel safe. Back in 2002, not long after the city started to settle down, an art student at NYU decided to try a different kind of art project. He (I always heard it was a he, so if it was, in fact, a she, I apologize) placed black boxes at Subway stops. They were simply labeled, "FEAR," in big letters. People saw these boxes and panicked. Apparently, if I read and remember the story correctly, he placed a small camera inside each box, and the art of the piece came from the people's reactions to this box. At the time, it was declared that this piece was tasteless, wrong, and hurtful to the dead. However, years later, it is very popular. The site where the images were on the internet has been closed down recently, but if I ever find another site with the images, I will post it.
Back to the matter at hand, however. Right now everyone thinks that Skarbakka is insane and tasteless. Though I understand his art, I don't really think of it as art. However, this is no worse than the "Voodoo Mona Lisa" or the "Mother and Child" painting made out of elephant crap. Those are considered art pieces regardless of how the general public feels.
The bottom line is this: you should not judge Mr. Skarbakka by the way he achieves his artistic pieces, but by the pieces themselves. Look back over history for examples. The German and Jewish artists who worked out their feelings from the Holocaust by putting them down on paper. Do we condemn an artist because he or she drew or took pictures from places people were murdered? How else can some people achieve closure? What about the photographers who won Pulitzer Prizes for their photos in war or even during 9/11? Should we revoke their prizes, because they took photos of a tragedy?
I cannot give you a definitive answer, but I can tell you that in my opinion I don't think that Mr. Skarbakka is really doing anything wrong. I may not really understand modern art, nor may alot of people, but as long as some people get it, then the artist should be allowed to continue.

Hilton...Stewart... Running Feather?

This is hysterical. How funny would it be if people like Paris Hilton and Martha Stewart had to either pay rent to or give up their houses to the Shinnecock tribe? Granted $1.7 Billion dollars is a ton of money (split up over the 1,300 members of the tribe, it's about $1.4 million each), but that entire area, if resources were pooled, can afford it. What I love is that people in New York are already saying that this is just a ploy by the tribe, so that they can get their own casino out there. Huh? They lose their land almost 150 years ago and are relegated to a reservation, and this is about a casino? Somehow, I don't think so.
I know that the residents won't have to give up their houses, because the tribe is only really going after commercial areas, which makes sense, but I have this vision of Martha Stewart doing her new TV show from her Hampton home and having to talk about her sponsors:
"Thank you to K-Mart for selling my wares. Thank you to Williams-Sonoma for supplying me with the cookware. And finally, I would like to thank the Great Spirits and the Shinnecock tribe for allowing me to be on this land."
They say good things come to those who wait or are patient. Maybe this is the Shinnecock's time.

An Apology

I want to apology for the ranting nature (and length) of the previous post. I just get really riled up sometimes when falsely accused of prejudice. I knew people in college who used their backgrounds (ethnic or otherwise) to their advantages when it came to classes and jobs. I understand that it is difficult to be a homosexual in America right now, because the majority of the country sees it as an unholy evil, but that's no excuse to take your anger out on a heterosexual who you don't know.
That's all. Once again, I apologize for the ranting nature (and length) of the previous post, and I hope you will continue to read regardless.

Thoughts for the Evening of 6/15/05

Once again, it's time to rattle around my brain to see what's troubling me. Warning: Coarse Language may be used. You've been warned.
Homosexuals are the new 2nd class citizen.
Move over African-Americans and get out of the way Hispanics, Homosexuals are the new 2nd class citizens in the U.S. Why? Well, basically it's no longer ok to pick on ethnicity, so now we hit sexual orientation.
1. Homosexuals aren't allowed to marry. This is the most screwed up thinking. People get upset because they believe that gay people are promiscuous. Fine, but then if that same person tries to marry, they are (and I quote a fellow student in my Master's class), "offending and upsetting God." Wow! Is that all it takes? Forget rape boys, just tell your local priest/minister/ guru that you're marrying Steve. That'll be enough to anger God apparently. Honestly, in my opinion, it's crap. We hear a whole bunch about God's love of humanity. How is not allowing two people to share their love in front of God and witnesses keeping with that philosophy?
2. Homosexuals are the new "Go to" joke. Remember how it used to be a Rabbi, a Priest, and fill in the ethnicity walk into a bar? Well, now it's homosexuals. I will share with you a joke that a student told me on Monday. I warn you (which means you can't sue me or get upset at me) that it is, unfortunately, very narrow minded:
An Italian, a Jew, and a Homosexual all die and go to Heaven. (Author's note: See, Homosexuals do get to go to heaven. Take that Jerry Falwell!) God agrees to send them back if they will agree not to do the thing that the love the most. Bam, their back. Immediately, the Italian sees an Italian restaurant. Well, Italians love to eat more than anything. So he goes in, with the others in tow, and orders a pizza, as he is paying, he takes a bite, and poof, he disappears. The money falls to the floor. Well, a Jew's favorite thing is to take other people's money. So he bends over to grab the coins, and just before he reaches them, the Homosexual disappears...
That's a terrible joke. Unfortunately, it's all the rage now to make fun of gay people. Hell, coaches still use it when motivating teams.
and finally, 3. Homosexuals are the new people to blame.
I hear all the time about how the problems in this culture can be blamed on Homosexuals. Huh? Really? Homosexuals created poverty? Homosexuals planted the Weapons of Mass Destruction? I don't remember hearing about that. Is that because the Homosexuals control the media? Oh no! Maybe I've discovered a new conspiracy theory. That's right it's really the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy group that's at the head of the problems in this country. Hell, Jerry Falwell said it was the Jews and Homosexuals fault that 9/11 happened.
Look why do we always have to find a specific group to turn on? We have done it this way since this country was founded. At least in the beginning, it was white on white (Americans and British). Then we went after all the non-white people. Native Americans, Africans and African-Americans, Hispanics. Is it really that because there's no more ethnicities to go after that we now turn our attentions to sexual preferences? Come on, folks, we're better than this.
Now, that being said, there is a part II to this thought
Homosexuals should not lash out at Heterosexuals for no reason.
I have acquaintances and friends (and even stalkers) who are Homosexual. I don't think of them as Homosexual. It's just not the first thing that springs into the mind. Today, while working out at the gym, I was called, "a Breeder" and was called a, "closed-minded bigot." Why? Well I'll tell you.
You see, I usually spend about 45 minutes on an elliptical machine. At the gym I go to, there are about fifteen of them in a row, and usually four or five are open. After stretching, I go to the machine and do my forty-five minute cardio. I love it. It's very freeing and allows me to burn off excess energy. Today, however, it became the center of my problem. I try to grab one of the machines that has a heart monitor so that I can make sure I'm hitting my target heart rate (I know, I'm a nerd). So, I got on the machine of my choosing and started. After five minutes (I checked the timer), a large woman came over to me and told me to, "get the hell off, "her machine. Now, I always check and ask people around if anyone is using that particular machine. Everyone said no. However, the story told to me by this woman was that she HAD been using the machine and left fifteen minutes earlier to use the restroom, then she was going to return to it. There was NO WAY anyone could know this. I apologized, but I said that there were three others open and she could use them. This is where I made my mistake. The following is the conversation between myself and the woman who will be known as Lynx Fan, because she was completely decked out in Minnesota Lynx gear:
Me: (still working out) I'm sorry, but there are three other machines open, and you left no markers to indicate you were here.
Lynx Fan: That's bullshit. Everyone here saw that I was on this machine.
Me: Yes, you WERE on the machine, but you left fifteen minutes ago. You can't hold on to a machine for that long. That's not fair to everyone else.
LF: Well, I want this machine. Give it to me!
Me: No, maam. There are three more, now four, open and two of them have heart monitors. What wrong with those?
LF: This is MY machine. I always use this machine at this time of day. Give me my fucking machine!
Me: No.
LF: Is this because you saw me with my girl? Huh? Do you not like homosexuals?
Me: I'm sorry, what?
LF: You heard me Breeder. I'm so sick of your kind. If you have a problem with who I want to sleep with, don't use it against me.
Me: Huh? (at this point, I stop working out.) Did I say something to make you believe that I don't like homosexuals? Did I say a single thing? What the hell, lady? How do you know I'm not gay, and this (pointing to my wedding ring) isn't from my lover?
LF: Because you won't give me my machine. You're a closed-minded bigot. You hate homosexuals, and this is how you stand up to them.
Me: Lady, pardon my language, but you're a fucking fruit loop. I don't care if you like women, or horses, or your vacuum. There was nothing to say you were here. Get over it. Get a new perspective, and try a new machine. I'm not leaving. (And so I return to working out).
After ten minutes, she returns with another woman. This one is named Tracy, and she works at the club.
Tracy: Sir, I think you need to come with me.
Me: Why?
LF: Stupid bastard. I hate bigots.
Tracy: This woman says that you took her machine, called her names, and was acting in an unethical manner. Did you tell this woman that you took her machine, because she was a homosexual?
Me: No, maam, I did not. You can ask the woman who is working out on my left. This woman came over to me, told me that this was her machine when there was nothing marking it, and then proceeded to berate me when I wouldn't get off. She even called me a breeder. That is offensive.
LF: I never said that. Besides, he told me that he doesn't like homosexuals. He said that they would all burn in Hell.
Tracy: Sir, did you say that?
Me: No.
LF: You liar. You know you said it.
Tracy: Sir, I see her here almost every night. I haven't really seen you before right now. I know LF (not putting in her real name), and she's a good person. I believe her when she says you have a problem with homosexuals. I think you need to leave for the night, sir.
Now, I had no way to fight back. Part of the problem is that I am multiculturalism's worst enemy: a white man. I didn't want to fight with the attendant, because it would get me in serious trouble. However, it's not fair that a person can make claims about me that aren't true and automatically I'm guilty. I have no issues with homosexuality. I couldn't care less if two men or two women want to be together. That's their right, and that's their business, not mine. So it pisses me off when a person exploits a situation using tactics like LF did. That's wrong and it's unfair. What's next? Am I going to go in for an interview and not get the job, because a previous applicant said I was a bigot (which a version of this actually happened to me)?
Look, if calling someone a "fag" is iappropriate, then I think "breeder" should be too.
I really don't know why LF picked on me. Maybe she's not exactly right in the head. Maybe she got burned by a mate. Maybe she just had a bad day and wanted to make someone else's day bad as well. I can't tell you. I just think that the avenue has to go both ways. If you want people to treat you right, you have to treat them right. Yeah, I know it's like the Golden Rule, I get that. It just pisses me off when a group complains about how everyone treats them badly, and they get no rights, and then they turn around, and they treat people badly. It's crap, and it's angering.
Ah, now I'm just too worked up to think about anything else. I guess I'll just have to talk about Emma and the gang another time.

Don't Want to Be an American Senior (Sorry Green Day)

Warning, this post may contain coarse language. You've been warned, so no suing.
So I got this hysterical invite in the mail. Apparently President Bush is going to be visiting (unofficially) Maple Grove on Friday. He is planning on holding a town hall meeting to discuss Medicare and medical issues with senior citizens. He is looking for seniors that would be willing to discuss these issues with him. I, apparently, am one of those seniors. Yeah, here's the problem, folks. First of all, I'm not anywhere close to my sixties. To be a senior citizen (or old fart to the uncouth) in this country, a man has to be 65, and a woman has to be 62. How do I know this? I go to the movies way too much.
The second problem is that I am not really a Republican. Before you go off on me, you have to understand that I don't really like the Democrats either. They have essentially become the same party as this point, just with different backers and slightly different goals. For me, choosing to be Republican or Democrat is like asking me if I want to be shot in the left kneecap or the right one. I don't really want either. Yes, I do admit that I am not a fan of Bush. He honestly embarrasses me with his whole, "I'm one of you" schtick when he is really a Connecticut Blue-Blood. Honestly, he's starting to be like an American version of Prince Charles. The ears are just sooo big. The democrats aren't much better. Kerry frightened me. I did vote for him, because I just can't trust this administration. I mean why is it that oral sex can lead to impeachment, but misdirection that leads to war doesn't? But I digress, that's not what this is about.
So how did I get this card? Well, during my Master's program, I met a girl named Dara. She is your neo-conservative. Not a Republican, she goes beyond the Republican ideas straight to Christian Conservative. I call her Mini-Coulter, after Ann Coulter (yes, I am putting a link here in the interest of fairness). I was her Bill Maher. (See, that's how you make it fair and balanced...FOX!) We would bicker and complain, at and about each other, but we got along very well. Unfortunately, during one class, I slammed her lesson plan and made everyone laugh. Because of that, she signed me up on every Republican site she could find. For the last election, I got letter after letter about the party. Now, I, of course, found out about it from one of the students who sat near her, so I signed her up for all the Democratic AND Independent (I'm meaner than she is) candidates. I also sent them to both her new house she was building as well as to her parents house. You can say it: that's incredibly mean. Still, if she hadn't signed me up, I wouldn't have been invited to this meeting.
I don't think I'm going to go for the simple reason that if I show up one of two things will happen. Either I will be arrested on the spot for false identity, and then media outlets will talk about, "the man arrested at the town hall meeting....Leab had a criminal record....He attempted to hurt the Pope, the POPE!" That wouldn't go over too well, I don't think. The other thing that could happen would be that I would get in and would ask President Bush either, "Mr. President, what are you really doing to ensure my and my students' futures, because it doesn't look like much right now." Or, and probably worse, I would stand at the microphone, clear my throat, and ask, "Mr. President, what the fuck?" Yeah, I don't think it would go over well either.
The bottom line is also that I don't want to deal with the security stuff. The frisking, the background checks (that would be a nightmare), the sycophantic people. It would be like when I saw the first episode of Star Wars: Some guy drooling about how great Bush is, and then cheering like the Vikings won the Super Bowl. It's not my cup of tea.
So, if you have a grandpa that wants to meet the Leader of the Free World, let me know. I can pass along my invite. I don't mind.

Paging Ms. Manners....

Say what you want, but common courtesy and manners are dying in this country. I don't mean knowing which fork to use when. No, I mean holding doors for each other, saying please and thank you, and realizing that other people might be present. Let's go through my day and look for examples:
Let's start when I headed down to St. Thomas this morning. As I got to the corner of my street, a person was waiting for all the cars to go by in order to cross. I decided to stop and let them. Did I get a wave? No. Did I get a thank you? No. This person just walked (slowly, I might add) across the street, stopping in the middle to check out what time it is. Fine, I let that one go.
When I arrived at St. Thomas, I got to the front door of Murphy at the same time as two other people. I decided to hold the door open for them. The first person went through without breaking stride or story, the second person quickly followed. Neither one said, "Thanks." Ok, fine, Person #1 was in the middle of a story. I understand that. However, I don't understand the next part. I followed behind these two people, when we got to the next door, I was a few steps behind, because I had held the other door open, so I figured they would do the same for me. I was very wrong. They walked through and let go of the door so it would shut right in front of me. This door is one of those Automatic Doors, so when it shuts, it has to complete its movement before it can be opened again. Because they did not hold the door, I had to wait until it shut and then open it again. That's just rude.
When I completed my tasks at St. Thomas, I decided I would head out for lunch. In Robbinsdale, there is a fantastic little Greek restaurant. It's called The Athens Cafe. I highly recommend it. Back to the point, however. Today at lunch they were very full. I placed my order to go and sat down at the lunch bar to wait. Persusing over my copy of the City Pages, I figured it would be a short wait. I was wrong. Because of the lunch crowd, my order took longer, so I got to experience some wonderful aspects of life.
First of all, the guy sitting next to me kept reading over my shoulder. Now, next to the door, directly behind me, only ten feet away, was a stack of City Pages. However, Mr. Looky-Loo decided that he needed to look at mine. When I turned to keep him from reading, he actually said to me, "Hey! I was reading that." Are you kidding me? I don't know this guy. So I told him, "there are more over there," and pointed toward the stack. "It's too far. Let me share with you." I just stared at him slack-jawed. I gave him my copy and went and got another. Then I moved to a table in the back. That was my next mistake. You see in front of me was a rather large and rambunctious family. I don't care that the parents wouldn't stop the childern from running around the place. That's their business, but here are the things they did that made them rude and made me question the next generation's manners:
1. Their little girl (I heard Pam) who was easily ten or eleven, turned to her mother and said, "Get me more Coke!" When the mother said, "What do you say, Pam?" The little girl said, "Get me more Coke now, or I'll scream." I was really hoping this was a joke, but the dad said to his little girl, "shut up!" The mom still went and got her the drink, and when she returned, there was no "thank you," no "you're welcome," and no, "please."
2. Dad and Mom get into a rather LOUD discussion. I don't like to eavesdrop on conversations. I understand that it's rude. However, when two people are screaming at each other across a table so that they can heard two stores down (at the Walgreens), it's not really eavesdropping, is it? I understand that they weren't sure who was going to take the kids to camp on Friday, but for the love of Mike, don't air your business in public.
3. I want to preface that I have no problem with breast feeding. You want to do it, that's your perogative (thanks Bobby Brown. Enjoy rehab...again). However, please, when you're in public, cover up. This one gal sitting with Mom and Dad had a baby and was feeding, but she did not have a blanket or anything covering the kid. Then she walked around the restaurant to get napkins. How can you not look when she's almost leaning over you? Don't give me, "it's rude to stare," when you're in my face with a baby and breast. All it takes is a blanket. And don't wear a shirt that says, "Don't stare at my breasts!" If someone wants to read what it says, they'll have to look. Don't get so offended.
4. The final act was when I was leaving. Momma Bear was right behind me, so I opened the door and held it open for her. She stopped before walking through and just stared at me. I tipped my cap, and said, "maam." She just kept staring, and I just kept holding the door open. When she went through finally, she didn't say anything. She just looked at me. I told her to have a nice day, and she looked at me like I had cursed at her. I said it again. "Have a nice day, maam." She just kept looking at me.
Finally, there was the Post Office. Ok, I know that post offices always bring out the worst in people, but I was shocked to see young and old treat the postal clerks like crap. An old woman argued with the clerk about the cost of stamps. She refused to believe that there was tax. The worst, however, was what had to be a sixteen year old kid who argued with the clerk and finished the argument by telling her to (and I definitely quote), "suck his balls." That's ultra classy. No, seriously. It makes him look like a perfect gentlemen to tell a woman to suck him in front of a crowd. All because his card was rejected. Nice work, my friend.
I miss the classiness that people used to have. You could go to a movie and people wouldn't talk or answer their phones. Even insults used to be classy. Instead of just dropping the F-bomb, people would say things like, "He's a cruel man with a steady smile." (That's Ralph Nader on Reagan.) That's an insult that doesn't just rely on dirty words, and, even though it is an insult, it still rings with a certain class.
I don't know how to fix the problem. I wish I did. I just know that a large number of the students I work with are not very polite. They don't say excuse me, they cut people off, and they never say thank you. Let me make this clear: I am not saying ALL of them, just a large number of them, are this way. I hope that new parents will attempt to fix this problem by teaching their kids to say "please," and "thank you," as well as teach them about how to act in public. If not, then public life will get even more annoying. Now if you'll exucse me, I have work to do. Have a nice day. Can I get the door for you?

Is It Hot in Here?

All right, I am not an environmentalist. I do believe in taking care of the Earth, but I don't go as far as to grow plants that I will specifically use as toilet paper (there are those that do). However, I have said in the past that I believe that there is global warming. Many people argue that it doesn't exist. However, this morning USA Today says the debate is OVER (sorry, too much Iron Chef at two in the morning). That's right, the time for arguing is done, and it is time to take action.
So here's my problem: people have been saying for years there is a problem and big businesses and government have said, "no conclusive proof, you wackos!" However, now that religious groups and a few key businesses like GE (General Electric) say there's a climate change, everyone is now saying we have to do something. Is that really how we're going to deal with problems for the rest of our time here on Earth? Unless a large corporation or a religious (in this case Christian) posse thinks it's a problem, we'll just ignore it? Can we get a corporation to rally against poverty?
Again, I am not a "tree-hugger", but even I thought there was global warming. When I mentioned it to some colleagues, I was laughed at. One of them called me "Chicken Little" (a popular term for people who question the norm), and still another told me that (and I quote), "God would never let something like that happen." How do you respond to that? Back to the point....
Our administration still is very light handed on the environment. Remember, they thought that the way to stop forest fires would be to level the forests. I'm simplifying their argument a little, but the basis was that with less trees, there would be less fire. Does that mean I can justify a killing spree and say less people means less crime? Hmm, too bad Johnnie Cochran is dead. He could probably come up with some sort of catchy rhyme that would get me off the hook.
So, remember this when, in about five year, the planet is ten degrees warmer: right now many people do not believe that global warming is happening. Those people need to see what everyone else sees: the slow destruction of our home. Until we populate the moon, or Mars, or whatever, we're stuck here. Let's try not to screw it up too much more.

Mr. Optimist & Mr. Pessimist 6/12/05

And now: Mr. Optimist and Mr. Pessimist will debate how I should feel about the fortune I received in my fortune cookie.
Mr. Leab: We tossed a coin backstage, and Mr. Optimist won, so he'll go first. Here is the fortune: Your humor and personality are what draw people to you.
Mr. Optimist: Thank you, Mr. Leab. First, I would like to thank your brain for allowing me to be here tonight. I think this will go very well. Now, we need to look at the positive aspects of this fortune. First of all, people are drawn to to you. That's important to note. Why are they drawn to you? Because you have the ability to talk to them, you make them laugh, and you make them think. That's what humor and personality bring to the table.
ML: Response Mr. Pessimist?
Mr. Pessimist: I would like to start by saying that this will not end well. How do I know? Because it never does. Also, my leg hurts. It's probably cancer or because no one loves me. Now, what does it say that our fortune says that out personality is what people like? Does a person get to know your personality before they see you? Not unless they're blind. People see us before they speak to us. And with the way the world is now, don't most people make their judgements on how you look, not on how you sound?
MO: Wait, wait, wait. That's a generalization, my friend. Not everyone in the world decides who you are based on your looks. Otherwise Mr. L here would never have gotten married.
ML: Ummm. Thanks. Awesome.....
MO: If I may continue? Ok, let's say, for the moment, that people do base attractiveness on how you look. Eventually, you're going to have to talk to each other. No matter how often you sleep together, eventually, you'll get tired. Someone will want to talk. If you have no humor and no personality, then when you have nothing to talk about, you won't be sleeping with that person anymore.
MP: Spoken like a man who's never had a great "physical" relationship....
MO: That's low, man. Come on!
MP: Whatever.... May I continue now?
ML: Go ahead.
MP: You don't need to be able to "talk" if you're amazingly good looking. Have you ever heard someone say, "He's so great, just look at his personality" before? No. What makes someone "hot"? It's the way they look. They like the smile, the beautiful face and body. Is there a reality show on television that remakes a person's personality? Nope. Are their shows that change how you look? Hell yeah! This fortune is essentially telling Mr. L that he is not good looking, but at least he can talk.
MO: But wait! That's actually a positive thing. Even if, as you say, Mr. L is unattractive...
ML: You know, I'm right here gentlemen.
MO: ...then this fortune is truly, in fact, a compliment. You say people are drawn to each other because of looks, yet this fortune says that he is able to draw people to him because of his humor and personality. It never mentions looks. It's not saying he's ugly, just that his abilities to make people laugh and to make people think draws them to him. Maybe that's just on top of his looks? Did you ever think of that?
MP: I wish I could see life like you do. Where you see light, I see shadow. That's why I'll live longer. You live in a dream, I live in reality. I'm a realist. Look at Mr. L's students.
ML: Hey! No, no, no, no. We're not going there.
MO: Actually, I'm ok with him talking about this. It will prove my point.
MP: Oh really? Do you really think that the two students that asked him to Prom did it because they thought he was funny? I don't think so. They did it, because they thought he was good looking. It was error in their judgement, but it's probably how they felt.
ML: I love this. I'm right here! Can you see me? Helloooo? Don't talk like I'm not in the room. It's rude, gentlemen. And stop insulting me.
MO: Sorry.
MP: I'm not. I'm finished. My point is made. People come to you because of how you look. They leave because of who you are.
MO: You're wrong. Both the students who asked him to Prom as well as the students who came to his home did those things because he made them laugh and he listened to them. It had nothing to do with how he looks. He's always been called cute. Isn't that right?
ML: Sigh. Yes, I have always been cute. I am not, as Paris Hilton would say, "Hot."
MO: So his personality really is his draw. That's a good thing.
ML: Ok, ok. Enough. Let's get to the final arguments, PLEASE. Mr. P. You may go first.
MP: In this country, we value looks more than anything. Well, except maybe money. Every magazine deals with looking a certain way. I don't recall GQ talking about personality. It's about looks. It's about fashion and more. How do we clue a friend that someone might not be good looking? "Oh, that person has a great personality." What's the first thing people notice? "Oh man, that person is hot!" It's not about how you talk, it's about how you look. Thus, his fortune cookie sealed his fate. He is not good looking, and God, or Fate, or Time, or whatever rules this universe is letting him know.
ML: Depressing. Rebuttal?
MO: Long ago, it may have been about looks, but in the modern age, we need the ability to talk. Ask any woman what they look for in a man, and "the ability to listen," and, "a sense of humor," are always the first things said. Whether or not they mean it is irrelevant. If you don't have the ability to make people laugh or if you can't carry a conversation, then people find you boring and abandon you. The fortune cookie said people are drawn to Mr. L because of his personality and humor. It never mentions his looks, that's just an assumption on your part. Maybe it means along with, or maybe it doesn't. The point is this: looks fade with time. Even Botox is not enough to save you. Personality, however, stays with you until your life is over. Doesn't that prove my point?
Mr. Leab: This concludes our debate for tonight. It is up to you to decide who is right. You can either drop us a line, or leave a comment. At a future date, we'll post the winner.

Mrs. Fualaau? It's about your child...

Now that Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili Fualaau are married, this makes me wonder: what will happen when they have children? Imagine if they have a girl, and she grows up and starts dating her teacher. How can these two argue against it. Can you imagine the conversation?
MKLetourneau: What are you thinking?
Daughter: It's not different from what you and dad did!
MKL: It was a different time. We were different people.
Honestly, though, is there an argument that they can make against doing it? Other than possible jail time?
How ironic would it be if their kid decided to be with his or her teacher, and they felt it was not right or decent?
Only time will tell.

Ramblings for the Morning (6/10/05)

Random thoughts that are pinging around my head this morning.
The new president of MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) is a man. Doesn't that kind of go against the idea of MOTHERS Against Drunk Driving. Wouldn't it make sense to change the name to PADD (Parents, etc.)? When a man is in charge of mothers, trouble could be brewing.
Oprah is up for consideration for "The Greatest American of All Time." I don't remember. Did she sign the Constitution before or after Benjamin Rush? (If you don't know who he is, get a history book.) Seriously, though, how can she be compared to the people who changed this country? I get that she is one of, if not the most powerful African-American in this country, but I don't remember that she was the one who sat down on the bus. I don't remember if she was the one who made the "I Have a Dream" speech. Is she the unnamed explorer who traveled with Lewis and Clark? She's great, she's done some great things (except for creating that damn Dr. Phil. Thanks for that, Oprah), but I don't think she's the absolute greatest american ever.
All local news stations ran the same stories at the same time for fifteen minutes this morning. It's sad but true. As I woke up this morning, I turned on the TV to catch the weather. All four of the stations were doing weather at the same time (all with slight variations). Then they all moved into talking about the Paparazzi. Each station had a variation of the Lindsey Lohan accident, then moved into traveling with a photographer as he, "tailed his next shot." It was very surreal and almost as if it was a slow news day.
New York is scrambling to keep their Olympic bid alive. Look, New York, we're old friends here, so I'm going to give you a little advice: let it go. If you love the people who live in your city, then let this go. Almost every city that has hosted the Olympics the last few times had major budgetary issues. Greece lost a ton of money. Turin (Italy, where the 2006 Winter Olympics are being held) is already 196 million dollars in the hole. The Olympics are extremely pricey. If NY takes on the games, the city will be swamped, security, alone, will piss off New Yorkers, and the ticket prices will be unaffordable to all but the Trumps, and the Ebersols, and such.
When will Blaxsploitation films be remade by white people? Ok, Cedric the Entertainer has remade the film Vacation into Johnson's Family Vacation, and he has remade The Honeymooners. Both of these were shows or films staring white people that have been remade for the African-American community. So, why doesn't Hollywood, which will run out of comic books and video games soon enough, remake some of the old Blaxsploitation films with white people? Think about Cleopatra Jones could become Mary Smith. Remake Sweet Sweetback's Baad Asssss Song. I'm not really being serious, but I will laugh very hard if this is what comes next. Just wait. They'll do a new Shaft starring Ben Affleck. Or maybe a white Roots? Of course, I'm still waiting for the black version of Revenge of the Nerds.
A man in Ohio has gone to see the final Star Wars film everyday since it came out. Either he's not willing to let it go, he's really lonely and imagines Chewbacca is his friend, or his mom keeps kicking him out and telling him to meet new people.
Storm season begins. Tropical Storm Arlene is preparing to slam into Louisiana and Florida. You would think with all the destruction that happens in those two states that real estate would be cheap, but you would be wrong. That's the nice thing about being in the land-locked Midwest. We only have to worry about tornados. Nothing really water related. Good luck Deep South and coastal towns. That's the price you pay for the lovely places you live.
and finally:
Students (and parents) suing to become valedictorian. Most schools allow the valedictorian to speak at graduation and give that person a little plaque. Granted it looks good on an application or resume, but seriously, don't most of us just want to hurt the valedictorian a little? I am firm believer that the student speaker at graduations should not be the valedictorian. Why? Because alot of times the "smartest person" in your class does not necessarily speak for everyone. That's why I was so glad to hear that my old high school had two students speak. One was voted for by the students, and the other was voted in by the faculty. Apparently, both speakers were extremely interesting and were able to speak to everyone in the crowd. The problem I have with bringing lawyers into it is that you look extremely petty doing that. One girl in Texas, for example, sued because the valedictorian chosen over her had two less AP classes then she did. This person still had a better GPA, but she didn't care. That's petty and sad. Get over it and succeed in life. Do better than the person that beat you and then turn around and crush them. That's how you really win. Not by using a lawyer, but by using your brains.

Doctor Feelbad

I don't like hospitals, and I'm not too fond of doctors either. There's something so wrong with today's medical setup. Most people want a doctor to be extremely quick about diagnosing what's wrong, but to still be very human and warm when talking to the patient. With the amount of stress and work put upon these people, it's nearly impossible. That's why so many nurses do a great deal of the work now. The doctor only makes a cameo.
I, for one, never felt a need to go into medicine. A lot of people, when they were kids, talked about how they would be a doctor. I never did. Personally, I do everything I can to avoid seeing a doctor or going to the hospital. If I can fix the problem myself (and this goes all the way to bone sticking out of the skin), then I'll do so. Why? Because in my experience, the doctors I have seen have all been pompous and annoying. If the doctor is a surgeon, hell, that's a great quality, because it means they think they're great and probably are. If you're in general medicine, however, and you work with people, I don't care about speed, I care about personality. It's the personality of the doctor I have been seeing that makes me want to switch.
When I first moved to Minnesota, I had an awesome doctor. She (yes, I saw a female doctor) had a quick wit, a great sense of humor, and actually knew how to talk to people about their ailments. However, she couldn't deal with the clinic's ever-changing policies, so she left for Chicago one night. I was passed off to her replacement. We'll call him Dr. C. At first glance, he appears to be a nice Jewish boy from Minnesota. However, over the course of three years, he has gone from nice guy to royal pain in the ass. Let's start with our first meeting.
I had to get a physical when I applied for graduate school as my undergrad had lost my medical records (not so much lost as thrown away, but whatever). At first, he seemed nice. I missed Dr. S, but I didn't say anything as that would be rude. However, little bits of his real personality appeared during our first meeting. When we started talking about our pasts, he was not thrilled with the fact that I was not a native Minnesotan. He then started telling New Yorker jokes. You've heard most of them. His were essentially Polish jokes with New Yorkers as the butt of the joke. The jokes weren't what bothered me. It was the fact that he was hurt when I didn't laugh. Honestly, they weren't funny.
Fast forward to seven months later. I had an ear infection and was very sick. Like I said, I really hate doctors and hospitals, so I waited until I knew that my own immune system couldn't beat the sickness. The first thing he says to me? "Why did you wait so long? You think you're a tough guy or something?" Now, remember that I have an ear infection and am very sick. Dr. C ends up thrusting his medical tool very hard into my ear (maybe he was having a bad day) and pushes on my ear drum pretty hard. Any guesses how that felt? You in back? Damn straight it hurt. When I yelped, his response was, "Ohh. So you're not really a tough guy?"
The most embarrassing moment, however, and the reason I am changing doctors came at my last visit. I was getting another physical and the clinic was swamped with people. The whole Asian Bird Flu scare was sweeping the nation. So Dr. C's patients were all coming in scared. I was not scared, and I was not there for that, so I was relegated a room that faced the parking structure. In some ways it was nice, because I had sunlight in the room, but I also had people parking and waving at me. Dr. C came in, obviously still concentrating on his other patients. "Take off your pants," he barked at me. He went to the window, so I really thought he would close the blinds, but he didn't. I asked him if he would, and he told me, "I don't have the time, let's go." So, I was given a prostate exam in front of a few lucky people who were parking their cars. I just waved and smiled thinking to myself, "This is the last straw. I am so ditching this guy."
The real final straw came when he saw my wife after her allergic reaction. After looking at her chart and talking to her for a few minutes, he went into the hall, and, in a loud voice, he made rude comments about her to another nurse. That is a no-no. Again, I don't care about speed, but I care about professionalism and courtesy. When you are making fun of your clients, that's when you get dumped.
The other reason I thought about this is that when I was in St. Louis for my renunion, I was shocked at some of the people who had become doctors. One girl, in particular, used to be a roommate of my wife's. This girl was a stone cold bitch. When my wife was single, this roommate used to like rubbing that fact in her face. She had no people skills, but she wanted to work with children. Now she's a gynecologist. Honestly, I'm shocked anyone would see her. She had really cold hands ("I have poor circulation," she would say) and a cold personality. Not really the kind of person you want handling you newborn baby.
As for hospitals, I dislike them, because, to me, they have always represented where people I know go to die or have to possibility of dying. After my father had his triple bypass, I used to walk him around the wing he was staying in to see the other patients and to get him some exercise. Hospitals should be about hope. They're helping people to live longer, but as we walked around the rest of the patients didn't give off the vibe of hope. The place smelled of death. Next to my father was a burn victim that they said probably wouldn't survive. I listened to a doctor explain to a family how their mother was losing the battle with cancer and would be dead soon. There was no hope, except for my father. Of course that's because he's the kind of guy who would (and did) try to be the world's first heart surgery out patient (but that's for another post).
In the end, the problem with medicine now is that it is about money. Here in Minnesota, the hospitals have been placed into a tier system. If your insurance company covers everything, then any hospital is open. However, if you only get X amount of money then only hospital A-C and maybe D will take you. I don't care about the co-pay to see my doctor, but it's amazing to me how much things cost. I can by Benadryl for $2.85 at Walgreens, or I can see my doctor and get the same thing for $25. It's a racket. It's the problem with medicine. Doctors and insurance companies have stopped seeing us as people, and now look at us in terms of dollars and cents.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm too cynical, but I fear the day that I have to have surgery and right as they are about to work on me, they stop because I am two bucks short.
With my parents getting older and with family members being in and out of the hospital recently, I can only hope that the next generation of doctors realizes that being likeable is a necessary part of the job. You don't have to be liked, you just have to be likeable. Make it more about the people and less about the money.

Scripted Annihilation

Does anyone still think "Professional Wrestling" is real? Don't get me wrong, I know that the people involved really throw their bodies into it, and I know they really choreograph their "matches," but what I mean is: does anyone really think that it isn't a show? That there really is a spontaneity to it?
The reason I bring this up is that I watched wrestling tonight for the first time in a really long time. I was amazed at how well they timed everything. From the entrances, to the movement of the "matches", to how well some of the wrestlers spoke. It really felt like theatre. Really well done theatre. I know they call it "sports entertainment", but I get the sense it is now alot more entertainment now, then sports. In fact, after watching two hours, I noticed that they talked more than they performed. Out of roughly 96 minutes of show (the rest was commercials), maybe 40 minutes (less than half) was actually wrestling. The rest was posturing and talking and such.
My brother in law's brother used to be a professional wrestler. His name really isn't important (and I'm not sure that legally I can put it in here), but he had a good run until his back and neck forced him out. He made millions of dollars without ever having to go to college. David (not his real name) even has a hard time speaking, but the boy could pick a man up and slam him down, and that was enough to get him on TV. Anyone who doesn't think that wrestling is scripted, should talk to any current or retired wrestler, or they should watch a wrestling documentary. These are just a few of the "man behind the curtain" gems one can learn:
Storylines are fleshed out weeks in advance.
Wrestlers who are "bitter rivals" probably travel together.
Wrestlers will often times go over a script together before heading to the ring to "confront one another."
If a PPV (Pay-Per-View) is coming up, wrestlers might get in the ring before hand and go over what moves they will be using.
The announcers will sometimes have a guy on headset backstage who will feed them lines if needed.
I could go on and on, but I think you get my point. It's not real. The moves are, the athleticism is, but the characters and speeches are given to them.
Still, I wonder if anyone really thinks that none of it is pre-prepared and that these characters (and they are characters) are real? I mean come on: when I used to really watch wrestling (back when I was in college and probably inebriated) they had characters that were vampires and a bitter feud between two brothers, one of which was burned when a funeral home burned down. It was downright silly, but it was entertaining. Even David was given a backstory. His character was on the show as part of a gimmick. It became necessary for him to "enter the action", so to speak, and he impressed so much that he was "hired" on the spot.
So, if you're reading this and you STILL think wrestling is real, take a good long look at films like Beyond the Mat or Wrestling with Shadows. Both of these films take a good look behind the scenes of the wrestling world.

Ding-Dong....Students Calling.

As I have mentioned numerous times, I am a teacher. Usually English, but sometimes I cover for Math or Social Studies. On one occasion I even covered a Chemistry class (very odd). As a teacher, I come in contact with a great many different personalities. With some of the students, I immediately click. With others, however, it's like pulling teeth. While it sounds odd, the teacher/student dynamic mirrors a typical relationship. Sometimes people hit it off right away and stay close to each other. Sometimes the relationship starts well, but over time the facades crumble, and the two people don't like what they see. Sometimes the two people are destined to never like each other. It plays out differently depending upon the people.
When it comes to the students I work with, I follow a very simple principle that many of my teachers and colleagues have passed on to me: It's important to be likeable, but don't bend over backwards to be liked. I have, unfortunately, seen teachers who do not understand this principle. One woman in particular actually canceled a test when the students said, "If you give us this test, we won't like you anymore." That's unfortunate when you give the students that much power.
I like alot of the students I work with. I cannot, off hand, think of a student that I dislike. Every single one of them has great qualities. Sure , they can be annoying at times, or even childish, but they are still in high school. It's unfortunate for them that they are in the most difficult time of their lives. They are expected to be adults without having the actual power and standing of an adult. But I digress....
When I was student teaching, I knew there would be a few students who would enjoy having me as a teacher. Every textbook, every teacher, and every colleague said this would happen. Some students will like having you as a teacher and will seek you out for counseling, or conversation, or whatever. However, they also mentioned that some students, regardless of how much they like you, will attempt to pull a prank on you. Now, you have to understand: I live about a half an hour away from the school where I was working. I figured that I would be safe because of that. I was wrong.
One fateful night, while the school was on a short break, I was visited by two of my students. The names are not important, but their actions are. I have to tell you that the story I am about to tell you is true. Even as I think about it, it sounds far-fetched, but having witnessed this, I can assure you it's true. I also have neighbors that will attest to the fact that this happened.
Late one night, two students felt that they would fork my lawn. How this idea came about is not really important. What is important is that they drove all the way to Robbinsdale from St. Paul (getting lost several times and driving the wrong way down a one way street to boot). Thinking that I would be asleep (which I wasn't), the students approached my house trying to make sure that it was, in fact, the right one. I was in my kitchen when I caught sight of them. Luckily the placement of my outdoor light blocks anyone from seeing what's happening in my kitchen but allows me to see them. So I took a seat at my kitchen table and watched the action ensue.
Having figured out that this was the right house, the students retreated to the car they had come in to get the forks. Unfortunately, one of them had the desperate need to pee (this is probably because they thought they would be done sooner). With no bathroom available, this student peed on the curb. At the same time, my neighbors across the street were becoming suspicious of the car parked out front. As the students descended on to my lawn and began planting the forks, my neighbors did what they thought was best. Rather than call me, they phoned the police.
At this point I am still sitting in the kitchen, while my wife is fast asleep. Right as I was about to go and scare my students, a cop pulls up. Now, if a cop pulled up and you were doing something wrong, what would you do? Maybe stop and explain? Well, these two ran for the car and drove off. The cop, probably in shock, pulled them over and grilled them. You see, these two were out after curfew, which upsets most cops. They pleaded their case with him and explained what they were doing. I can only imagine what he was thinking:
"Are you kidding me? This has got to be worst thing I have ever heard. I can't laugh at them, because it would look bad, but this is really funny. Stupid kids. I hope my teen doesn't act like this."
So, minutes later, as I was about to ascend to my bedroom, I see a spotlight shine through the windows of my house. This kind of spotlight is no stranger to me: It was obviously a police light. I returned to the kitchen window, ducking a little so I wouldn't be seen, to watch what was happening. My wife, who heard all the noise outside, came down and watched with me. As the officer looked on, the two students were patrolling my lawn and picking up the forks. I could tell from the light, that both of them were really embarassed, and they wondered or worried that this incident would be passed on to their parents. When they were finished, they left.
The next morning, I went out to survey my lawn. A few forks had been missed, but that was ok. my neighbors flocked to my lawn when they saw me and started asking me questions. I answered as best I could. When my neighbor told me that he had called the cops, I asked him why he didn't call me first. "I don't know. I guess I didn't think, just reacted." I makes sense, I just wish I could have scared the hell out of those two students. It wouldn't have been hard either.
The aftermath of this story is a great deal of fun as well. The two students were mortified when I thanked them (not by name) for aerating my lawn. After I finished saying it, there were two VERY red faces. They gave me the forks, which I, in turn, gave to the faculty lounge. The dirty ones were pitched, while the clean ones are still being used to this day. Every time someone takes a fork from the bag, I laugh.
You have to understand, I wasn't mortified by what these students were doing. I thought it was funny and showed that they actually liked me. They had to look up where I live, plan the prank, and then carry it out. That's alot of work for just a student teacher. They could have done this to one of their other teachers that lived near them, but they instead chose me. I have to admit I was flattered.
I still try to be friendly with those two students as well as many others. The dynamic between us has changed. I believe those two students have outgrown me and may be embarrassed by the fact that they went to such lengths for just me. I have not had a visitor since that day. Students have, however, called me at home. Most recently, they called me to let me know about a department party. They called me from the party and were upset that I wasn't there, but no one had told me about it, and I was out.
I look forward to developing a good teacher/student relationship with many students for years to come. I know there will be students that hate me, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there.
And to the two students who showed up at my home late one night: thanks.

The (Un)Friendly Skies

My wife left today for Ireland. No, she didn't leave me (yet). She's going for work for about two weeks. Am I sad? Sure. She's my best friend, so it's tough when I'm not really going to hear from her for a while. However, the Gods of Travel are not going to let this day go smoothly for either of us. Let's start with me.
After I dropped her off at the airport, I started back home with a long "honey-do" list. If you don't know what that is, then you're very lucky. Essentially it is a list given from one spouse to the other of things that should be done. Mostly women give them to men. In this case, both of us created the list for me. Anyway, my wife and I are known for usually forgetting something when traveling. Not anything large, mind you, but something that we invariably need at some point. When we went on our honeymoon to Saint Lucia, we forgot our electrical adapter which meant we could not recharge our video camera. Luckily, we went to the city near where we were staying and were able to buy one. Just about every trip we've ever taken, either together or on our own, we usually forget something. Thus, there we were on the way to the airport making sure she had everything. I dropped her off and started back. However, once on 55, I noticed a small black object in the cup holder. Sure enough, my wife had forgotten her cell phone. She needed it in order to coordinate meeting her travel companion. So, I made a quick u-turn and started back. This is where the miracle of modern airports comes in to play, and by miracle, I mean Hell on Earth.
I made my way to the Northwest Airlines desk and asked for help. Jules, the woman behind the desk, tried to pass me off at first. I, however, wasn't having it. So she called the gate. Gordon, the attendant at the gate, took her phone call, understood the instructions, and put the phone down. For ten minutes, Jules sat on the phone and listened to Gordon talk to a customer. Apparently he was flirting. With no other recourse, she sent me to a "Red Jacket." These are the people who stand in front of the check-in area and tell you what to do or where to go. Mary, the head "Red Jacket" of this area, got on her walkie and called down to the gate. Luckily, Yuko, another 'Red Jacket" took the call and came to meet me. I was able to pass on the phone and get it to my wife. Crisis averted. However, as easy as it was on MY end, it was much harder for my wife and her TC (travel companion).
TC was coming from the Kansas City Airport and would meet Caroline (my lovely wife) at the Philadelphia Airport. When she arrived at the check-in counter, she was told that her ticket did not exist (even though she had the printout in her hand). Thus began a horrible 45 minutes for TC as she worked to get on the plane. Meanwhile, my wife had gotten on her plane only to be delayed due to a passenger fainting. The passenger was half awake and kept saying, "Don't you take me off this plane." However, under FAA rules, the passenger has to get off and prove that they can fly now. Finally, after 25 minutes, the flight is under way. Now, Northwest has decided that they have to save money, because they are SO far in the hole right now. Instead of raising ticket prices or something reasonable, they cut all free food, pillows, and blankets from their flights. If you want the small bag of pretzels now, you have to pay two bucks. That's annoying, but that's for another post all together.
At 4:20 PM Eastern Time (yes, that's funny, you stoners) my wife landed in Philadelphia, and the horror began. See, Philly's airport is really complicated. See, there are seven terminals with the A Terminal broken into East and West. This is the story that my wife related to me:
I landed here and immediately knew something was wrong. All the lines to get to the other terminals were huge. It turns out that several of the x-ray machines are broken, because the air conditioners above them broke and drained down. Thus the machines are all shorted out. So the airport is unbearably hot and has huge lines to get around. After an hour, I was able to get to A West, but they didn't like how my ticket looked (Apparently Philadelphia frowns on airlines printing tickets for each other). So I had to go over to A East to reprint the boarding pass, but when I got there, they told me that the boarding pass was fine. So I returned to security to go to my gate. They stopped me again and told me to go back. So now I return to the counter again and tell them that security sent me AGAIN. Their response? "Those idiots." They then sent me back with a note. A NOTE! I felt like it was high school again.
Having just talked to her only minutes ago, I know that TC made it, and they are sitting together stewing and waiting to board the plane. My wife is ready to sleep away her anger and wake up refreshed for her irish morning.
Without going off on a rant, this is part of the overall problem with traveling now. Security doesn't talk to the gates, the gates don't talk to the front desks, and the counters don't talk to security. Remember when I talked about how miscommunication is one of, if not the biggest, problems with society? This helps prove it. They don't talk to each other. Security really doesn't care about the passengers. The overall problem with flying now is that whereas it used to be this luxury where pilots were gods, and the passengers got all gussied up, now flying is almost like taking a bus. Everyone's rude, it's overexpensive for little quality, and the airports are way too crowded now. I can only hope that the maintenance workers aren't upset about losing their pensions or being laid off and take it out on the passengers by doing shoddy work on the planes. Look at what happened here in Minnesota where two planes on the ground hit each other. Is it coincedence that this happened not long after Northwest announced it would be cutting more jobs? I don't know. All I know is that I hope the rest of my wife's flights go smoothly. I also hope that my upcoming flights go smoothly as well. Who knows, maybe I will have an experience next week that rivals what happened to my wife today. I don't want to, but you never know.

Secret's Out

Here is another website that you should all check out. I complain about art all the time. Modern art drives me nuts in the sense of what truly is art, but this site has pieces that really are art. Let me explain.
When I was a senior in high school, the art school across the street invited us over to their students' final project gallery. The group of us, expecting paintings and sculptures, were disappointed beyond belief. The first artist had plates of food. The first plate was a hamburger titled, "Falling Down." Huh? I didn't get it then, and I still don't understand now. Most of the artists did similar things. The only one that seemed to really make sense was a boxing showcase. The artist had trained with a boxer to learn how to spar. Then he taped the matches and played them back in slow motion so that the viewer could see how the body moves when punching. That was the art: the way the body moved. I could see how that was art. On a sad note, the final night of that exhibition had the student actually fighting in the ring against a professional boxer. The boxer swung too hard and hit the artist in the head with a killing blow. According to the paper, the blow caused an anuerysm which killed the artist. The boxer was crushed and apparently retired because of it.
Now, as an adult in a town with a large art community, I once again see things that make me question what exactly art is. As I mentioned in a previous post, my wife and I went to the Walker on the night after Wolfgang Puck's restaurant opened. We walked around the Walker while waiting for our reservation and looked at all the art. Some of it was beautiful and interesting, but some of it, in my opinion, just could not be called art. One artist just put a toilet on a pedestal. The title of the piece? "Toilet." It was just an American Standard toilet placed on a platform. How is that art? I get that there is found art, but a toilet is just not really art to me. Yes, one could argue about the form of the toilet, but this toilet was not made by the artist. No, no, no, no. It was the same kind of toilet you would find at Home Depot. Next to that toilet was a car hood. Was it painted? No. And, according to the plaque, it was, "the hood off of a Chevy Malibu." Huh? Again, how is that art? How is someone getting paid to do that? Maybe I could do some art. How about this: I'll stick a pipe into a small platform. At the top of the pipe, I'll paint a few blood red marks. With me so far? Ok, I'll title the piece, "Family Ties." That sound weird? Ah, but we haven't gotten to the true part of modern art: the back story. See, in my opinion, all of modern art is really about the story that explains why it's art. For "Family Ties," the back story is that my father had to escape the Holocaust as a child. So he on one end of the pipe is the blood of his history, but the pipe is secure to the ground which represents his new family in his new country. How about that one? Ready to give me a grant?
So why do I bring all this up? Because Post Secret, to me, is actually art. The combination of stories along with the creative ways of delivering those tales comes across as real art to me. Go through some of the postcards and look at how the people reveal their secrets. It's quite stunning and artistic. I also bring up this website, because my postcard has been accepted (I will not say which one it is). So, enjoy the art and support your local galleries. While I may not agree that some things are art, we need places where we can view these pieces.

The Problem with "Deceny"

If you go to the dictionary and look up the definition of the word decency, this is what you find:

Decency: 1. conformity with moral standards. Behavior or attitude that conforms to the commonly accepted standards of what is right and respectable. 2. Modesty. Modesty or propriety.

Ignoring the second definition, I really want to talk about the first part. You see, more and more in this country, we are hearing cries of "indecency" aimed at television, movies, music, theatre, and basically anything that happens outside of our homes (though there are also arguments about what certain people do in their homes, but that's for another post). However, if you look at the definition of decency, you see my problem: It "conforms to the commonly accepted standards..." Who decides what the typical standards are? For example, I don't think the whole Janet Jackson thing was that bad. I think it got blown out of proportion.
Want a more recent example? No problem. The International Movie Database (or IMDB for short) reported that Disney had to "digitally reduce" Lindsey Lohan's breasts for the upcoming Herbie film. Apparently members of the test audience felt that she was "too raunchy." This is, unfortunately, a true story. Essentially, the test audience is saying that because she is busty, she is inappropriate and indecent. That's insane. What's next? No fat people, because it might make us think of the obesity epidemic? No gay people, we don't want kids getting ideas. Wait, let's digitally make Ben Affleck African-American, so that there's more diversity in this film.
It goes beyond film as well. In Oregon, back in 2002, several high schools re-made their English and History curriculums and dropped any texts that dealt with war or death. Why? Because they felt kids are too inundated with images of war and death in the news, so why should they read about it in the past. That's totally and utterly ridiculous, and, to me, that is indecent. Sorry kids, you can't read the Red Badge of Courage or watch this documentary on the Civil War, because you already see war images in the media. That's unfair and restrictive to learning.
And then there's the PTC, or Parent's Television Council. I applaud the fact that this group wants to make the world, "better for children," but their methods and choices of what is decent is way too (for lack of a better term) Christian. Wow, 7th Heaven's lead is a preacher. Big shock that they like the show. They go after shows, like Nip/Tuck, which is on cable television at night. They attack Penn and Teller, because their show, which is based on their own opinions, says that religion has been transformed into a weapon used on the masses. That's why it's called an opinion. It's what they think. Yes, they might be trying to sway people to think like them, but that's no reason to attack them. And why doesn't the PTC ever go after the local news or the cable news stations? When I was a child, my mother would not let me watch the news. I could read the newspaper and magazines like Time or Newsweek, but I could not watch CNN or Channel 11 news in New York. Why? Because the news was more graphic then what was on television. For example, I was in California last year. My wife and I got to go to Wine Country. Late one night, we got in to the room we were staying in and decided to watch the local news to get the weather. What's the lead story? "Death on the Freeway!" They showed up close images of the car wreck and the bodies. There was the medical team carting away a bloody man and putting him in the ambulance. The next story dealt with a guy who took hostages, and they showed the SWAT team going into the house. Hell, look at our cable news now. How many times a day do we see images of people hurt by bombings or images of war? Yet we won't show Saving Private Ryan which is the same thing? That's hypocritical, and that's the problem with saying we should let popular opinion decide what is decent.
Do I have the solution? No. I wish I could make it easier for everyone to agree. I understand that an eight year old kid should not be watching Cinemax late night (also known as Skinemax). However, teenagers (and some kids) need to learn how life really is. When we don't let them learn about war, or sex, or whatever, we are cheating those kids in the name of ideals. It's not fair to them that they might have to learn about these things the hard way. And what does it say to your kids, parents, that you think that by watching a film where a teenager drinks your kids will start drinking. That's absurd. If you talk to them about what they saw, that might help put it in perspective. Think about it this way: what happens when you tell a kid, "no." Do they ALWAYS listen, or do they try to rebel by ignoring? That's why you should talk to them about what they are seeing.
More and more I hear about the moral decay in this country and how deceny needs to be restored. I don't agree. I think that instead of creating oppressive rules and doing silly actions to films (I mean come on, digitally changing cup sizes? That's so stupid), parents should talk to their children about the images they will or have seen. Keep your kids educated instead of ignorant, and I promise you, the results will be much, MUCH better. The world is better when it's open, not forbidden.

Thoughts for the Evening of 6/2/05

Is it really bad when a student tells you, "I love you," because of the possible ramifications that it can have on you, or is it because the student is obviously lowering their standards? Or is it both?
If a teacher is asked to prom, can he or she ever really say yes?
If a teacher has an African-American History Class, and the class is predominantly African-American, is it really bad if the teacher reaches Civil Rights, and the class says, "We don't care about that?"
And finally, some good wishes:
To Charlie: May you find your path to happiness, and may your "Welsh Dragon" (not that you sick people) guide you.
To Jamie: Ah, Senorita Passion, Queen of the Night. May your heart grant you release.
To Greta: May you find peace and piece of mind.
To Trina: May you pass your next driver's test.
To Dima: May women finally find "the nice guy", and may you never run out of wood screws.
To Chase: May you do well in college.
To Deandre: May you learn to ask before hugging.
To Kallie: May you find your true love to dote on before your heart explodes.
To Chellie: May you be free of your keeper duties.
To Jolene: May you enjoy your college experience (that also goes for all the seniors).
To Blair: May you stand up for yourself.
To Emma: May you learn more about yourself and be happy with who you are.
To Dr. Grays: May your love life not be the topic of choice for the students (and faculty).
To Sadie: May you remain healthy and live a long, fruitful life.
To Charles: May you learn to stop stalking me.
To Phil: May you one day tan.
To Julie: May your heart's desire one day come true.
To Sammy: May the Air Force help you to be complete.
To HotDave: May you get used to your new nickname.
To Ms. R: May you understand that calling me Mr. Glib is like the pot calling the kettle black.
To Sarah F: May your "time" soon end.
That's all I got tonight.
O.G.M.L (Thanks Cole)