I was once a liberal.

I was once a liberal. Liberals aren’t evil. They are idealists. They want a world where everyone respects each other’s personal choices and everyone helps each other out. World peace, utopia and democracy are all sweet liberal dreams. Most liberals truly aspire to those concepts. And they are very nice concepts.

In grade school, I didn’t really see where either liberals or conservatives were bad guys. It was only when taken too far that either was a bad thing. Maybe not all kids get the same thing from school, but I understood from my history teachers that there was a certain ebb and flow of ideas from left to right, right to left. I remember a chart that looked something like this:

Radical ----- Liberal ----- Centrist ----- Conservative ----- Reactionary

See how I cleverly arranged the right and left? Didn’t see that coming, did ya?

It was supposed to show that liberals and conservatives could meet in the middle, but their nastier cousins sort of lurked behind them, whispering into their ears.

I never really related the terms Democrat and Republican to liberal and conservative. I didn’t like Republicans. In my forming brain, they were the big controlling faction that owned everything and scoffed at lesser beings. It turns out that this is actually true, as far as it goes.

There is a romantic charm to the underdog who just wants to see fairness. This was how I saw Democrats. Republicans were the wine and caviar party and Democrats were beer and pretzels. Then I began to realize that the underdog/fairness image was just that, an image. Democrats are far more like Republicans than they are like me.

Sure, Dems give lip service to fairness, but they tend to forget justice. They claim they want social freedoms for all. But if Obama is so supportive of gays being able to marry or civil unionize or whatever you'd like to call it, then why did he voice his support after the North Carolinians voted against it and not before? He had the opportunity to influence that vote and didn’t even try.

And on my right, Repubs are so proud to be business-friendly.  But they are right there in line to pass new laws and regulate the ass off anything that moves.

Literally nothing left if you regulate the ass off it.

People support both of these political parties based on falsehoods.  The truths never live up to the public relations and press releases.  We have become a nation of words.  And those words are twisted.  Each party seeks to please their faction with no regard to what is actually the correct action.  Neither is truly liberal nor conservative by today's definitions or older representations.

So what is liberal and conservative?  Ignoring political party connotations, a liberal would like changes in current public policies.  Conservatives would like to restrict change and keep the status quo.  Reactionaries want to go back in time and return to a situation before policy changes were made and radicals want to trash the whole thing and come up with a new plan.

Hold on.  I just realized something.  I am still a liberal.  I would like changes to current public policies.  Well, sonofabitch.

The De-Friending Apocalypse is Nigh

It’s very disappointing to see my Facebook friends removing one another for liking particular philosophies. This political season has been trying everyone’s patience, but it is disturbing to watch former friends ignore each other over illegal immigration or second amendment rights.

Most philosophies have something to teach you whether you accept them or not. I disagree with the theory of socialism, but I add to my understanding of economics when I investigate the root reasons why I disagree. I have friends that claim to be socialists. I don’t dump them. Socialism is not the sum of their existence and rarely the defining force of their lives. They may also like jam bands, science fiction and ironing laundry. Those are things I can appreciate, especially if these friends come over to iron MY laundry.

Probably not socialist.  (Photo credit)

If you scrutinize your own chosen organizations, you might note that you don’t accept all of them completely. Your friends feel the same about their own “likes.” They may enjoy listening to Rush Limbaugh or Bill Maher and quote them from time to time. This doesn’t mean they agree with every word from their mouths or how they live their personal lives.

Many people detest Honey Boo-Boo, but usually don’t de-friend people for watching her. Why is this more acceptable?

Next time you are outraged your “friend” posts an article opposing one of your pet issues, pause before you de-friend. Consider what you have in common with that person and why you became friends in the first place. If you still want to dump them, go for it.

If you de-friend me because I like John Stossel or Gary Johnson or International Talk Like A Pirate Day, you may be narrowing your view of the world. I am an atheist with religious friends and family. I am a Libertarian with friends in many other political parties. I am a heterosexual with gay friends. I didn’t even de-friend the woman that posts too many Nickleback videos. Now that’s acceptance!

Not Nickelback.

New York's Soda Ban

I’m worn out with all the political chat. It’s debatable what the right thing to do in the Middle East might be. I can only guess the best way to fix our economy. To combat my mental shutdown on all things truly nation-changing, I am writing about a “big” topic that doesn’t confuse me.

In six months, residents of New York City will be limited in the purchase sugary drinks over 16 oz . Apparently, this is going to make strides in solving the obesity problem. Restaurants, concessions, food carts and delis are affected. Grocery and convenient stores are not.

So if I live in NYC, I can buy as many three-liter bottles of soda as I like (with food stamps even) at the grocery store. I can drink soda during all my waking hours as long as I do it at home. In contrast, if I attend a Yankees game, I can only buy 16 oz at a time.

This proposal was passed by the New York City Board of Health. The board is appointed by the mayor with approval of the city council. The positions are unpaid and terms are six years. The council is officially 11 members, all experts in various health and medical issues according to this web site.

In addition to improving the waistlines of New Yorkers, the new law will purportedly save money. NYC spends $4 billion per year on medical care for overweight people. Reportedly, 58% of the population of the region is obese. I assume that the $4 billion is spent on only the overweight people without their own health insurance. I didn’t see any statistics listing how much is spent on those that are not overweight. It seems like a pertinent question.

Presumably, diet soda is still subject to the law.

Another good question may be what economic effect might this have on outfits that currently sell large beverages? Supplies shouldn’t be an issue. They have warning. Sell down the stock of 32 oz cups and only buy 16 oz. The danger is in sales. But that’s easy, isn’t it? Just increase the price of the 16 oz. In fact, double the price of the 16 oz drink then offer “buy one, get one free.” Same amount of soda, same price, two containers, double the environmental impact! I suppose free refills work too.

Mayor Bloomberg has stated this is not the last step in combating obesity. I have some ideas for him. Limit the amount of meat on any sandwich to be not over 6 oz. A slice of pie can only be as large as 1/8 of a 12” radius dessert. No appetizers allowed. After all, these things may have some nutritional content but all of them have more fat than a giant soda. Also, alcohol has more calories than soda and also impairs judgment, so back to prohibition.

Before long, we will be living in a peaceful future where we are all vice-free. No swearing, no guns, no sex, no rock music, no violence and nothing that could possibly be bad for you. Also, Sylvester Stallone will save us. Or was that a movie?

Yeah, forget that last paragraph.

I rarely drink soda and I truly think no one needs copious quantities of it in a single serving. But since when does a body of government (non-elected at that) decide personal soda limit? I will decide what to do with my body. It is my property after all.

Suggesting to people what is best for them is a pretty good idea. Forcing them to do what’s best just breeds resentment and rebellion.

Seven Bad RPG Character Names

I enjoy creativity in character names, forum handles and other unique forms of Internet nicknames. The lore behind a name can be an interesting tale that rounds out my vision of personality for a given individual.

The flip side of enjoying such details is that I am annoyed at stupid names. I realize stupid is a relative term in this case. While I might think “Angelkiss” sounds pretty dumb, there are many who would enjoy such a name. But this is my blog. I’ll make the completely arbitrary judgment calls around here, so here is a list of name types I hate particularly as they relate to online RPGs.

1. Directly lifted names of popular characters
If I meet one more elf named Legolas (or Legollas, Legolass, Leggolas, etc…), I may injure myself or others. Yes, we know you are a fan. This is a fantasy game where nearly everyone is an appropriate level on the geek index to have read or watched LOTR. A decent percentage probably own prosthetic elf ears. If you’re going to name yourself after a character in popular media, at least choose a lesser known one that plunges deep into the fandom. How about Thranduil? No one would mistake you for a superficial fan with a name like that. You’re deep! Plus Legolas calls him “Dad” and he’s a king.

Don't make me shoot you for abusing my good name.

 

2. Obvious names
I once knew a ranger named “Tracke”. Come on, man! You’re not even trying.

3. Evocative names
Ever met a player named “Foxypants” or the like? Did you try to flirt? If not, chances are you missed an opportunity. Dependent upon the gender of said player, it was either an opportunity for cyber or an opportunity to be told, “um, hey, I’m a guy.” Admittedly, there is a third possibility that I am keenly aware of. I named my character “Jajunk.” It seemed harmless at the time as it was a song title. I added a surname later that sort of fits in this category. I forgive myself because I added “Inzetrunk” for the humor.

4. Names I can’t type
I can’t find the umlaut key on my keyboard. If you use an accent mark of any kind that I can’t figure out in less than three seconds, we’ll probably never be friends. Unless there is an option to reply without typing your name, I will also appear to be ignoring you. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re a fine person though perhaps complex.

A helpful Aperture employee locates an umlaut that is not on a keyboard.

 

5. Long-ass names
As with names I can’t type, you will be receiving neither direct communication nor group invitations from me. I may have known you for years, but we are talking about my entertainment here and I will be lazy if I want to. I’m looking at you, Imwalkinthepath (additionally, a sentence is NOT a name).

6. Titles in names
“Ladysarah” or “Darthmeanie” are not very subtle. Chances are Ladysarah is either not smart enough to realize what she has done or “she” is actually a guy pretending to be a woman. In a number of RPGs, “Lady” is actually an attainable title. If you start off with the name, you may look dumb later when you earn a title and suddenly you are known as “Lady Ladysarah” or “Darth Darthmeanie.” Lucky for you, most games also allow you to turn off titles. But isn’t it cooler to earn it than to immediately promote yourself to a higher social status?

7. Outright stupid
“Hail, Luvtheheals.” “Perhaps you could assist with my collection, Buttface.” “Can you help me find my missing little brother, Dirtyoldman?” Quest dialogue just isn’t the same with a stupid name. Almost any name has a place in some game, but I prefer when it’s kept in the spirit of the game. Stupidity is sort of cool in Kingdom of Loathing, but calling yourself “Lazerbeem” in a fantasy game is out of place and erodes the role-playing illusion.

I know we all get frustrated sometimes trying to select names online. Many are already taken. But I look at it as an opportunity for broader creativity. If someone already has that name, I don’t want it anyway. It’s common.

In the end, I usually say nothing to those that I feel have unoriginal or stupid character names. I don’t discriminate. I even group with them though all the while shaking my head and giving a small sigh.

Jewel

We were Jewel's fourth home.  She'd really got around even at just one year old.  But we knew she was staying with us as soon as she came in the house.

Supposedly, Jewel was a purebred Egyptian Mau.  I am skeptical about the breed background of most cats and no exception here, but she did fit the bill.  Green eyes, the tabby "M", a ticked pattern, nearly waterproof fur and the extra skin flap with long back legs.  Then there's the spots.  Yeah, not so many spots.  So her first home was probably not a meticulous breeder.

Jewel's second home was with a woman and another cat.  She did fine there for a time.  But the story I heard was that the woman's boyfriend abused the cats.  Then the boyfriend decided it was ultimatum time, it was the cats or him.  The woman chose him.  It seems crazy since people that abuse pets often also abuse other people.  I hope she did all right.

A lady she knew took the cats.  The lady brought them to her daughter's house who already had four cats.  All the cats were indoor/outdoor there.

This is where I come into the story.  The daughter of the lady that rescued the cats was a co-worker.  Our year-old cat needed a companion.  Mostly we just hoped the cat we already had would stop biting our fingers and toes at night and play with the other cat instead.

I was supposed to be looking at a different cat, but once I arrived I could see the owner was kind of attached.  And there was Jewel, frightened low cat on the totem pole that had no interest in going outdoors.  How could I resist a poor little feline that waited to sneak in and eat last so the other cats wouldn't threaten her?

On the way home, Jewel showed a lifelong habit for the first time.  She pooped in her carrier.  After a quick stop to remove the odoriferous object, we continued on.  She was cautious as she was released into the wilds of our home, but got along with the resident cat, Pandora, very quickly.  There was no doubt she had found her place.

Over 13 and a half years, Jewel put up with a lot.  We added a third cat, Miranda, that became her faithful sidekick.  Then I began fostering cats for a rescue group, so there was often an extra adult cat or a whole litter of kittens staying in the guest suite (second bathroom) or strolling around.

A few years ago, Jewel was diagnosed as hyperthyroid.  It barely slowed her down.  When I called her, she would come and take her medication without complaint.  It's a pretty rare thing to shove medicine down a cat's throat twice a day and still retain your skin.  Last year, she developed a liver tumor.  It was just not feasible to remove it.  She only had use of about a quarter of her liver.  We added a supplement to her diet and hoped we'd know when the time was right to let her go.

Today was the last day that I got to hold my cat.  I'm going to miss her badly, but I know it was the right decision.  She was worn out and wobbly.  She still had the energy to crawl on my lap, but I could see it was only a matter of days.

Everyone that met Jewel thought she was amazing.  No one more so than I.  The vet's office provided a clay impression of her paw for which I am grateful.  I don't need a memento to remind how wonderful she was, but it gives me something tangible.  I may not be able to touch her, but I can trace a paw print and think about my love for her.

The Party Animal

Technically, it was a bird. But “Party Avian” doesn’t have the same zip.

Some of you already know of whom I speak. To those of you that do not: suspend your judgment for just a few minutes. Please read all the way through before declaring, “What sick bastards!”

It is a strange moment in time when you’re digging through your kitchen freezer and come up with a parakeet. But there was Reggie in a zipper bag, plumage as bright as the day he died.

The members of the household put their sleuthing heads together. What had possessed us to so preserve our little friend? We reviewed the facts.

Reggie was a standard green parakeet. I had inherited him from my job as an intern. The manager was moving and needed a home for his bird. Our household had other birds, so were used to caring for them. He spent his days happily pecking and chirping. He had his own cage without other birds, so foul play was not suspected.

Dramatic re-enactment of Reggie's life (from parakeetcare.org).

We also knew we had not placed him in the freezer alive. I know I mentioned we might have been “sick bastards”, but that would be cruel and horrible. One day, he simply passed on as pets are wont to do. Parakeets are neither the hardiest nor the longest-lived of household pets. It took some time, but we finally remembered we had frozen our little budgie just in case he had died of a transmissible bird disease we may later have needed to identify if our other birds became ill.

We felt better after realizing this. Our other birds had not had any issues, so Reggie had not been pulled out of the freezer for emergency autopsy. Unfortunately, the macabre re-discovery of the body was made in the dead of winter. In western New York, the ground if frozen pretty hard that time of year. Our best option was to pop Reggie back in the deep freeze and wait for the spring thaw to determine his final resting place. Good plan.

Not for use on frozen tundra.

 

I don’t remember who found Reggie the second time. I do remember that houseguests were present. I imagine the look of horror that on their faces as they understood they were eating food that came from that freezer. Then again, we had interesting friends, so perhaps it was merely a look of curiosity.

I recall we very quickly explained why there was a dead bird in the freezer. The guests relaxed. Their hosts were not horrible people and had just wanted to safeguard their other feathered friends. Right.

Somehow after a couple of friends knew there was a bird in our freezer, word got out. We never asked ourselves until later if it was strange that people started asking to see Reggie. Before long, on every occasion when we had visitors, Reggie made an appearance. The crowd would chant "Reggie!  Reggie!  Reggie!" until he made his brief appearances (so as not to thaw out). But he had become a mascot, an entertainer and…the Party Animal.

Reggie became so popular that as spring arrived with opportunities of softer ground, we were loathe to bury him. Friends felt the same, forbidding our planned memorial service.

A couple of years later, household changes were due. We had a college graduate, a high school graduate and a mom that wanted to relocate somewhere warmer. The apartment was packed up as we each made our decisions about where to go next. As we finished and some friends helped us load our possessions, we debated Reggie’s fate.

One friend volunteered to go buy a bag of ice for our cooler so we could bring Reggie to our new home in Atlanta. Politely, we declined. It was time for Reggie to be laid to rest. The truck was closed and the old apartment locked as we stood in a loose circle where the lilies of the valley grew by the side of the house. We all smiled at our fond memories of Reggie then hugged each other goodbye, leaving him behind to sleep.

Not for use as pet carrier.

The story of a parakeet usually ends abruptly. They are cheerful companions, but not made for long lifespans. Even their owners sometimes forget they existed after a time. Reggie, however, will be well-remembered by many. Now you may say “What sick bastards!” if you like.

On Gay Marriage

The institution of marriage is being completely ruined. There are people in our country today who choose a lifestyle that flies in the face of our national good will. They abuse the liberties we have inherited from our wise forefathers via the bill of rights. They display their own public relationships with possessive pride.

They are citizens of the United States that oppose gay marriage.

I’ve heard the reasons. It’s unnatural. It invalidates the sanctity of marriage. It will bankrupt the morals of our youth. I don’t want to see/hear/smell anything gay. It’s a gateway to anarchy and hell!

Reduced-brightness Hellfire for safe viewing.

There are actually theories that purport quite natural reasons for homosexuality. For instance, the presence of gay men may actually be a benefit to their female siblings. Their contributions to their sisters’ offspring increase the level of care for those children. It’s been called the “gay uncle” theory, but is more traditionally known as “kin selection” by evolution theorists.

Another theory is that it is an adaptive technique for slowing explosive population growth. It could be a physiological response built in to try to curb our suicidal rush to overburden our lovely little planet. Of course, none of this really matters to gay people. They know their own identities and they want to be happy just like anyone else. They don’t need to be catalogued or fixed. They just need to be.

So about that whole sanctity of marriage thing…aren’t you religious folks supposed to let God be the judge? It is completely and rightly up to you if you don’t want to allow same-sex ceremonies in your churches. If you intrinsically disagree with it, attend a church that doesn’t participate. I’m positive there are other more understanding congregations that will be more than happy to accept those you reject and the tithes that go with them.

Next up, a friendly message to the homophobes: get over it. You are going to see gay things for the rest of your life. It takes a lot more energy to fight it than accept that there are people who live different than you. That energy is better spent fighting off telemarketers and getting through traffic. Ironically, objecting to homosexuality simply draws more attention to it. And you know your kids are just looking for a way to rebel.

Sure, they SEEM friendly.

I have a personal reason for not wanting gays to get married. Frequently, they are the life of the party. If society allows them to settle down and become stable and happy, they may also become boring. But that’s just my own selfishness talking.

Then again, all of the reasons to oppose gay marriage boil down to that one thing.  Selfishness.  Ask yourself who is more selfish? Two people wanting to share their lives bonded together or others that want to prevent those people from living happily ever after?

Describe Your Ideal School

Describe your ideal school structure. Don’t worry about how “there is no way to change the system to get there.” Just describe. This is an exercise (like in school).


My foremost concern is options. If I have a child, I want to be able to read “mission statements” or goals of various schools, so I know how they intend to help me educate my child. I want to choose a school that is closest to my values and matches the way my child’s brain works. A dyslexic child is not any less intelligent than others. They just need different learning techniques.

Secondly, I have thought often about the way our govt funds schools. This is generally based on geography and population. Funding is supplied to schools and parents are instructed where to send their kids. If they choose a private school or home-schooling, do they get a tax break? No. What if the funds followed the kids instead of the kids following the funds? I would rather pay my school taxes to the school of my choice as tuition then trust the govt to allocate those funds for me.

Please remember, this is an “ideal” notion. I realize there are plenty of disinterested parents who wouldn’t bother to research and select for their kids. However, a system that allows for options would also still have the public/govt school option. If your kid goes there, you money goes there. Parents choose the school that spends money in the way they want it spent. More art programs in school X? More sports in school Y?

Another point I realize is that many teachers would not like this system initially. It means competition. It means less security based on tenure. It means more judgment based on job performance. The good vs. bad teacher argument would still be a debate. Would a competitive school be one that handed out good grades like Halloween candy or one that made children earn grades? Again, parents can judge a school based on their own criteria. Do I want my kid to have it easy, get straight A’s and still work as a grocery store clerk? Or do I want my kid to learn how anything worthwhile is earned, not given?

Eventually, many teachers may see that a system of choice gives them a choice too. They can apply for work at a tough school or an easy school. They can choose an atheist school, religion-based school or any sort of specialization. Schools compete to hire the best teachers. And what if there are school types we haven’t considered?

This next bit is purely from my imagination. Consider a neighborhood school. Say there are ten households in a small neighborhood. Not every household has children, so let’s put the number of school-age kids at 15, ages 5-18. Either one adult has a certification to teach or one is hired from outside the community. An assistant is also hired. Could one teacher plus one assistant efficiently teach that many children in a homeschool type technique? Would the neighborhood parents provide a traditional or alternative classroom setting and be willing to pay that teacher and an assistant to educate those children? Maybe not, but change the parameters. One teacher with seven kids? Three teachers with 30?

This has become long-winded and wanders a little into unknown territory. I don’t suggest that my ideas are the best. I only suggest that there are more ideas than are currently being considered and some of you have them. Do as you ask your students and children to do and exercise your brains to invent solutions. Maybe those same students and children can even contribute some ideas.

No Quarter Given

“Mom, I think I just swallowed a quarter.”

These immortal words were uttered in 1986 (or maybe 1985?) by a young girl describing a most unusual situation.

But let’s back up just a few minutes to see how the event unfolded.

The scene is a kitchen in the early evening. The fourteen-year-old is sitting in a chair at the kitchen table. Mom is on the phone. It’s a rotary wall phone in a lovely shade of mustard yellow. No one remembers who Mom is talking too, but all agree on the level of impatience in Girl’s general attitude.

Primitive Communications Device

“C’mom, Mom. When are we going?” the youngster questions repeatedly. The plan was to go to the mall, always an exciting time in a teenager’s life. But Mom’s conversation just seems like it will NEVER EVER end. Girl does what all kids do. She gets pouty. For some reason, Girl has two quarters in her right hand which she is rubbing together as if to start a money fire. Her left arm is across her body in “arms crossed” position. Girl leans back in her chair resting on the two back legs. She ignores all conventional wisdom about the germs on coins and sort of bounces said coins off her bottom lip. Girl loses her balance. Girls’s chair slides forward to its intended position of all four legs on the floor. One of the quarters Girl is holding slides straight back down her throat.

Put a white cushion on it and it's the spitting image of pure evil.

Now don’t get crazy. In the above flashback, Girl had no trouble breathing and was not in any immediate danger. However, the quarter did come to rest in a fixed position. Average human throat diameter is about one inch (possibly less in an immature female specimen). The diameter of a quarter is about ¾ of an inch. For reference, the quarter was stuck about halfway down the front of the neck.

Girl was quick to identify the issue to Mom. Mere moments later, the quarter scraped its way down to the base of the neck. Since Girl did not exhibit the universal sign for choking, Mom wrapped up her phone conversation normally before hanging up. By then, the quarter had settled squarely between Girl’s breasts and refused to budge.

No Joke!
“Does it hurt?” Mom asked.

“No,” Girl replied. “Wait, it is sort of starting to…irritate. Oh, God, get it out!”

Vrroom. Mom drove Girl to the hospital.

After being admitted to the emergency room, it was x-ray time and also the beginning of something more. An orderly gave instructions on positioning and listened to the story of how this odd event had happened. His comment?

“That’s kind of hard to swallow.”

Mom snickered.

The next part of the evening was a nightmarish blur. The reason for that was drugs. After reviewing the x-ray, a doctor decided the quarter had to come out the hard way. If it didn’t fit through the esophagus, it was not going to go quietly through the small intestines. Two substances were administered. One was Demerol. This immediately relaxed all of Girl’s muscles and the quarter dropped into her stomach. The doctor announced the stomach would now need to be vacuumed and provided the second drug. Girl did not catch the name of it, but it was a viscous liquid that numbed the throat on contact. Have you ever tried to swallow with a numb throat while on a mind-altering drug? Girl would advise against it.

At this point, Girl became disoriented. She did not know if she was swallowing or not, but she tried real hard. Apparently that worked because she had to swallow a crazy-big suction tube. The device pushed air into her stomach forcing her to belch. Then the suction would grab stomach contents and deliver them to the waiting doctors. It seemed like it took hours, but Girl had a skewed concept of time at that point.

At long last, the quarter was retrieved and there was much rejoicing. Mom took Girl home. Life returned to normal. Mostly.

Let’s fast forward a few days to the weekend at Dad’s house.

Girl is getting in Dad’s car to go out for ice cream/dinner/something random.

Dad says, “Wait a minute. I forgot something.” Dad goes back into the house and then returns.

Dad says, “Here. I brought you something.” He drops an object into Girl’s waiting hand.

He says simply, “Snack,” as Girl observes the quarter in her palm.

In addition to a year’s worth of flashbacks where Girl’s throat would suddenly go numb, Girl’s family was also relentless.

We’ll view one more example.

Mom, Brother and Girl are passing a vending machine. Brother starts searching his pockets before asking Mom for money. Mom says she doesn’t have any cash.

Brother asks Girl, “Hey, could you cough up some change?”

Fortunately, Girl saw the humor in the situation and was glad to provide her family with a bountiful supply of one-liners. And yes, she still has the quarter.

Collector's Item?

Picture credits:
Phone - tariqwest.tumblr.com
Chair - ths.gardenweb.com
Choking - cogitoergoblawg.wordpress.com
Quarter - usmint.gov

Have you seen this armadillo?

The last of my re-posts from previously published material is below. The prior date on this was Sept 27, 2007.

Have you seen this armadillo? He and his companions were last seen making coffee in the Fredrickson kitchen in Cassadaga, NY. Dubbed “The Juan Valdez Gang” by local authorities, it is unknown whether these armadillos are dangerous or just hopped up on caffeine. They are known to flee if approached, but may come back later to see if the pot is empty. Please post a response immediately if you see these armadillos or know anyone who has.

May be using the name "Fidel."

The Art of Choosing A Bathroom Stall

Do you think deeply about selecting a bathroom stall? Chance are, no. Yet for a few moments every day, it's right there at the top of your priorities. Either consciously or not, we all follow certain unwritten rules during this process.

Disabled Access
Generally, the handicapped stall is left open unless a disability is present. This stall is reserved out of respect for the disadvantages of disabled, injured or very large people. This rule is suspended in extreme circumstances to be detailed further on.

Pretty!

Proximity
Proximity rules change based on the current population of the room. A full house cancels out all choice. The rule of thumb is to select a stall that is not adjacent to a currently occupied stall. There are endless variations, many of which are effective for urinals as well as stalls.

Examples:
A. A four-stall bathroom with stall 1 occupied and stall 4 with handicapped access indicates entering stall 3.
B. A six-stall bathroom with stall 1 full and stall 6 handicapped indicates selection of 3 or 4.
C. A four-stall bathroom with stall 2 occupied and stall 4 handicapped still indicates a choice of stall 1 or 2, leaving the 4 open for the disadvantaged.

Expected Result
Entering a bathroom knowing you have a lot of "business" to do negates the usual respect attributed to handicapped access. Go all the way to end of the row. Choose the handicapped stall or the one right next to it. Odor will still be apparent, but possibly to a lesser degree. Your efforts to limit collateral damage will be appreciated.

Lack of Equipment
Just move on if paper is missing. It will not do to take an inordinate amount of time to select the next stall, so just go to next available, ignoring proximity. Helpful tip: At a concert (especially outdoor), the first time you go, paper will be plentiful. Take enough for two extra trips and shove it in your pocket. Things can get dicey later.

There's probably a phobia named after this.

Cleanliness
A dirty stall cancels out almost everything above. If a cursory glance indicates a soiled seat or if there is "unfinished business" lying around, move on quickly. Make exceptions for paper on the floor or in the bowl if it is clean.

Need for Speed
Desperate times call for desperate measures. When you just have to go NOW, abandon all above rules. If at all possible, choose someplace clean. You can always beg your neighbors for paper if that issue comes up.

Gender Differences
I would be remiss for not noting this is written from a female point of view. Men don't often have the luxury of stalls. I'm sure they still appreciate the unwritten rules of bathroom use. In fact, I'm told they have a special rule that women are not usually aware of. They have to maintain exactly the correct eye contact and direction of gaze. This is not a situation in which to smile or intitiate casual conversation. Save the talk for the sink. And please wash your hands while you're there.

Facebook Stereotypes II

My previous post about stereotypical FB behavior was my popular blog ever. So, in the interest of selling out, I now provide a sequel. Several of these new types were ideas of other people. You are know who you are (Kim).

Dumb Question
The question feature seems interesting at first. But then you receive your first "I'm cleaning out my friends list. Answer yes if you want to stay on it" poll. How about you go ahead and "unfriend" me if you want and I'll go ahead and not care? One less friend who thinks I need to answer a poll about staying friends won't hurt me.

A Call To Prayer
I'll admit the praying folks are well-meaning. But I've literally seen requests to pray someone finds their car keys. Really? Unless you're looking for them to jump in the car and escape an advancing tornado, let your god sit this one out.

Please make people read this blog.

Youtube Boob
Sharing videos, pictures and smart-ass comments is what FB is all about. That said, we all know at least one video overposter. I WILL hide your ass after the sixth Nickelback video pops up in news feed. This is how you remind me to no longer pay attention to you.

Lyricist
That's a really clever and poetic observation on life you came up with there and.....HEY! That's from an Eagles song. It must have taken a huge amount of energy to type out that profound influence on your current life situation. Yet perhaps you should have gone one step further and done a web search first. You might then know that it's "trying to live my life without you" and not, "trying to live my life without shoes."

Captain Obvious
“It’s Hump Day!” Oh, thank you so much for the breaking news. I would never have guessed it was the middle of the work week all on my own. Please also tell me when it’s time to TGIF. I certainly wouldn’t want to forget that!

Foodie
A lot of people really like food. Most of us use it to fuel our bodies and keep the bulge of our muffin top in prime condition. Then there those that suddenly morph into Guy Fieri. They tell us all about their meal plus take a picture. I’ll tell you one thing a picture of food does for me. It explains to me why marketing teams all use FAKE food for pictures and commercials.

He's inside us all.

Subverter
Do not hesitate to delete the post of a subverter. These are people that hijack your status for their own sinister purposes. You start with a casual invitation: “Hey, everyone! A group of us will be at Taco Mac tonight to watch the game. Come on out and have some fun!” Almost immediately, Jenny Harris posts she can’t come because of her minor dental surgery that afternoon and leaves a paragraph of the bloody details and how horrible she feels. Now no one is reading your post because they are all saying “poor poor Jenny” and leaving details of their own recent dental procedures. Hey, Jenny….delete!

The Offended
These people always get my attention for a minute. They are really mad at someone. I don’t know who, but I spend precious moments of my life wondering if it’s me. Think. Think. What could I have done to inspire a friend to say “I wish some people would just grow up!”? I guess the easy answer is I wrote this blog post. But looking at my low readership numbers, probably not. Chances are it was someone else, but the Offended should beware. They leave the door wide open for misinterpretation and the creation of second generation Offended.

Facebook Stereotypes

These are some common traits of online personalities. If you find a description of yourself on this list, I'm sure you'll just take it as a joke. Right?

OCD Updater
This person MUST let the world know what they are doing every moment. Working out at the gym > driving home from gym > showering > preparing dinner > picking nose > watching CSI > brushing teeth > sleeping > still sleeping > getting ready for work > at work > discussing with co-workers whether Watson or Crick made the greater contribution to DNA studies > going to lunch > buying stamps at post office > back at work > picking up kids > ARGH!

Pity Party
This friend always has some horrible thing happening. For a typical person, any one of these things would elicit well-wishes from friends and family. But something bad happens in this person's life EVERY DAY. A typical week:
Monday: Mom having surgery
Tuesday: Taking little Murray to doctor for bronchitis
Wednesday: Mittens hit by truck
Thursday: Brother knifed in bar fight
Friday: Roof leaking
Saturday: Car broke down
Sunday: Spouse leaving my pathetic ass

Serial Dater
Soanso is single. Soandso is in a relationship. Soandso says it's complicated. Soandso is single. Tell this friend that if you have to update your relationship status more than once every three months, maybe you should just leave it off your profile for now. After two dates, you are not necessarily "in a relationship". Just leave it as "single" and keep them all guessing until you shack up or get engaged. And do not, I repeat DO NOT, friend the friends of your current interest until you've at least met the parents of said interest.

Contest Addict
You are not going to win anything. Ever. No Macbook Pro, no i- or e- prefixed technology. Just stop.

Fisherman
“Sigh. FML. OMG, not again.” Any of these statements are popular with the fisherman. The goal of this person is to get attention that their generally boring lives can’t supply. A vague status update forces people to ask questions. “Why is Nancy so sad?” or “What’s happened, Leonard?” Then, they reel you in a little at a time. Sparse details are supplied each time they post until you end up at some mundane result. “Oh, I just couldn’t find my car keys. Got ‘em now!”

The Joiner/Liker
It's fun and easy to like things. But consider the amazing variety of products, programs and simple household items that have dedicated fan pages. If you like a dozen items in one of these categories, it says something about you. For instance, Janice likes ER, Grey's Anatomy and Chicago Hope. One might suspect Janice is a fan of medical drama programs. But then consider Pete. He likes those programs too, but also Bones, Fringe, Friends, American Idol, Nova, Dancing With the Stars, SNL and Blue's Clues and 16 other random shows. It says something, but mostly just that Pete is not very discriminating.

App Junkie
Farms, Mobs, Fish Tanks, Zoos, Restaurants, Vampires, Pirates... It's a list that keeps growing and this friend keeps playing. The first two or three apps just take a few minutes a day to play, so where's the harm? The harm is these games can be addictive. The easily achievable goals just feel good. Most people know when to quit, but some begin to ignore their real life obligations in favor of their farms.

Special Friends
You just want to pat this gullible buddy on the head. No matter how many times you remind them of the reasons why Facebook is not going to charge for it's services or explain that there is no way to know who is viewing your profile, these people will continue to join the latest group that references these activities and many more. These precious little dears are just too trusting and no skepticism is powerful enough to overcome their naivete.

Are we still friends?

The concept of HOME

Are you home?

Go back to the moments when you're a bored kid at your parents friends house. You whine to your mom, "I wanna go hooooooome."

Now consider the next day when you're running around like a maniac at Tom Schroeder's 6th birthday party. Mom tells you it's time to go home and you whine again, "Nooooooo!"

What makes it so desirable one day and so distasteful the next? As many aphorisms tell us, home is not really about a place, but about a feeling. Not home, but being AT home. When "home is where the heart is", it doesn't mean a specific physical place. It's where you feel like you belong. It's where you want to be.



As adults, most of us are able to suppress our whiny inner kids. We just mentally trudge through those moments when we'd rather be somewhere else. But what happens when you are actually in your own house and the thought occurs to you that you want to go home? Maybe the first time you can disregard it easily by thinking, "What a silly thought!" But as months and years pass and you think it again and again, you realize that something is wrong. Your house is fine, but you are not where your heart is. You are not home.

We're trained from birth by the expectations of those who have gone before us. Our path is clear: go to school, get a job, get married, have kids, etc... But what if there's another way? Education sounds reasonable and being able to support yourself is pretty important. But all of it, even these things, should be a choice.

I ask again....Are you home?

Technological Firsts

Technology grows exponentially and often outpaces our ability to comprehend its application. Did that statement sound smart? I sure hope so because the following blog may make me look more limited than a mime in a shrinking box.

Amongst all of the smartphones (is that one word or two?), laptops and advanced acne medication available today, I like to keep in mind some of the basic firsts in certain technologies that my family experienced when I was growing up. These devices and our reactions to them when first encountered must seem pretty moronic today. Well, they may have been moronic even back then.

Answering machines were a charming addition to our household. I have to pluralize them though because we went through so many. Sure, the tiny tapes were adorable. Until later. They can be quite daunting when their guts are exposed all over your living room as you futilely try to wind them back up to hear that potentially most-important message of your life. After splicing your broken tape back together and suffering hand cramps from twisting your pinky in the tiny hole for hours, you then receive a message meant for some real estate agent named "Betty".

The VCR was both enchanting and traumatic. I pat myself on the back for immediately figuring out how to program it. The downside was that movies were expensive. We rented often, but we owned one movie. ONE MOVIE. And let me tell you, when you own ONE MOVIE, you show that movie to every single guest that drops by. After the first dozen showings, I could quote every single line along with "Beverly Hills Cop". And I did, much to the chagrin of everyone else that actually wanted to watch it. To this day, I do not wish to see a single clip of that film nor of any of its sequels.

Our first microwave oven was kind of fun. In the beginning, it was just a big popcorn popper. We tried microwave brownies, but food technology had not quite kept up with appliances. Eventually, we figured out it was also good for defrosting frozen goods or melting cheese. The crowning achievement of the microwave age was discovered while softening butter. You see, butter sometimes comes in metallic wrappers. Wheeeeeeee! Just don't do it when Mom's looking.

The computer was fun for our young brains. Mom did great getting us one early on, guaranteeing we'd never be afraid of the technology. Our first machine was a Commodore 64. We ran some text-based games and even learned a few simple programming commands. It's hard to believe we got by with the tiny amount of memory available, but Zork didn't take a lot. Down. West. Kill troll with sword. Hello, Sailor. Of course, this was all when the floppy disk drive was actually working. And when we remembered to use comma 8, so the PC wouldn't ask us to "press play on tape".

So today I am grateful today for voicemail, DVDs, DVR and modern computer UIs. All the technological advances are pretty amazing. But it's also nice that microwaves haven't changed and the sparks can still fly!

Bacon & Cheese, Oh forgive me!

Lazy repost of something I originally wrote 10/02/2007. Go ahead and judge. I don't care.

Today is a historic day. My personal beliefs have been shaken undeniably. It all started quite innocently when the circumstances of beautiful weather and the rare pleasure of driving my husband’s car inspired me to spend my lunch hour shopping for a birthday gift for my sister-in-law.

I located an appropriate gift, however, was quickly running out of time. With this noble pursuit carried out, a trip to the drive-thru of a local fast food establishment was next on the menu. Wendy’s beckoned with the promise of the dollar menu. A baked potato and some chicken nuggets may very well be the perfect meal for such a day. Then fate intervened with a gluttonous thought. Why not go for the bacon and cheese potato?

The staff expertly handled the request resulting in a smooth window-to-window transaction. Yet even as I received the welcome bag into my hands, I sensed something amiss. Was it the weight of the bag that was different? Perhaps the hint of glowing neon orange shining through the top of the bag? Nervously, I drove back to my place of employment, taking great care not to spill the bag on the interior of my husband’s vehicle.

Upon arrival, I fully opened the fast food package. Egad! I would have been blinded by the expanse of orange cheese instantly if not for the mounds of bacon obscuring it in strategic locations. At first, it seemed a miracle. Two of my favorite foods were plentifully adorning a simple potato. I stared for several moments attempting to ascertain the best method to consume the meal. Finally, I simply dug in. I ate as much as possible, but in the end it was too much. Fragments of both cheese and bacon were left on the plate in an embarrassing display.

Prior to these gooey events unfolding, I would have told anyone who cared to listen that it was impossible to have too much of either of these ingredients in a meal. But today, my world has been forever changed.

Florida’s Non-Violent Opposition to Drugs

When I first heard of the new welfare drug testing law signed by Rick Scott, the governor of Florida, I was skeptical. Would the savings of not paying welfare benefits to drug users balance the cost of administering a testing program? Is the testing constitutional by federal law? Should the government be able to tell anybody what they can and can’t do with their lives including using drugs?

This issue allows me to stretch my brain in balancing my leanings toward both conservative economic policy and liberal personal liberty. As a taxpayer, I don’t want the revenues generated from my labors to support the drug habit of another person. However, if that same person wants to do drugs on their own dime, then have at it.

The facts as I understand them are below:

1. As of July 1, 2011, any applicants for state welfare benefits in Florida will be tested for drugs as part of the application process.

2. The drug test is paid for by the applicant. The applicant is reimbursed if the test is passed.

3. An individual that fails the test can designate another person to receive benefits on behalf of his or her children.

4. A failed applicant may not re-apply for one year or may re-apply following the completion of a drug abuse program.

Right away with fact number one, I notice that this does not apply to current benefit recipients. It is new applicants only. I have not located a copy of the law yet, but no news outlet I have seen details any provisions for testing those already receiving public assistance. My guess is that the law does not apply to those already in the program in order to better stand up under Constitutional scrutiny.

The fourth amendment protects citizens from unreasonable search and seizure. The fourteenth provides for due process before cutting off a welfare recipient’s benefits. Interestingly, the fourteenth amendment also provides for something interpreted as “freedom of contract.” This allows a corporation and an individual to enter into a private contract free from government restrictions. A government agency may be different than a corporation, but the freedom of contract concept could possibly be in effect here. Therefore, if an individual wants welfare benefits, they enter into a contract with the government to submit to a drug test before receiving said benefits. I’m no Constitutional expert, but it seems reasonable on the surface.

Fact number two provides for a portion of the funding for the test. It curtails the extra expense for drug testing when the applicant fails the test. Those that pass are reimbursed. That’s nice. Now I stick my big fat BUT in here. What kind of bureaucracy has been created or enlarged to administer all this? I haven’t seen any projected figures on how much it will cost for the testing equipment and employees to perform the necessary tasks. Will it actually be less than money saved from not paying out additional benefits? I suspect additional infrastructure would be minimal considering drug testing is very common and not particularly expensive. There are well-established parameters on how to perform such testing. It would be necessary to print new forms adding in the drug test to the application process, but that too seems small.

Let’s project that one denied applicant would have received from $100 to $700 per month for a family. Per the ACLU, average cost per drug test in 2008 was $42. I have no idea how many applicants would fail the test. I’m going to base it on 1 in 100 applicants will fail. Spending would be $4,158 on 99 drug tests. If the failed applicant would have received the minimum, the state would be avoiding a payout of $1,200 per year. The maximum not paid would be $8,400.

Admittedly, there are a lot of factors not included here. Benefits may also include rent assistance, food stamps, medical care and insurance and other allowances. At any rate, if more people are closer to the minimum payout, there’s not a lot of saving here.

An excellent vintage!

Fact number three above seems like a big concern to me. I am going to assume the designated benefit receiver would have to go through the same application procedure. If they don’t, the whole program is an utter waste of time. Still, that’s quite a loophole. I’m sure most parents or siblings would do this for an applicant without too much complaint. Or maybe anyone would do it for a small kickback, further corrupting the purpose of public assistance funds.

I like fact number four. One year seems like a reasonable amount of time before re-applying. Time for a BUT again. It seems like an added cost to keep tabs on this and even more so, to track time spent in drug abuse programs and determine if such programs were indeed successful.

On the surface, I don’t really have an issue with requiring welfare recipients to be drug free. Just like your parents said “my house, my money, my rules” when you were young, the government can say the same thing when it’s footing your bills. I do have an issue with the cost of keeping up with the program. I commend Florida for the requirement, but this should be watched closely to see if the savings outweigh the costs.

You may have noticed I said “on the surface” in the previous paragraph. That was your cue I’m not done rambling just yet. If you don’t like freedom, this is where you get off the ride. Stop reading (if you haven’t already…yawn) because now I’m going to state two more things that may be heavily disagreed with.

Drugs should be legal. Really. It’s my choice if I want to do take drugs. That doesn’t actually invalidate drug testing to get free money. If you’re taking a hand-out, you can be told what to do by your benefactor. It’s just like when you are employed and your company states you will be tested if you agree to work there. Absolutely. That is a contract. Employers have a choice to hire on that basis. Which companies will be more successful? Ones with slacker druggies or ones with productive people taking pride in their work? A contract is still regulation, but you choose it so it is also liberty.

Welfare should be completely reformed and mostly shut down. Now’s the time to say “WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN!?!” I’m sure most people would agree that children should not be allowed to starve. For the most part, they’d agree that the government should subsidize the care and housing for those unfortunate enough to be born to parents that can’t actually take care of them. Oddly, if approached on an individual basis to give money to families living in poverty, a lot of people would keep their cash for themselves. But they don’t seem to mind the government taking money from their pay and donating it to the same families. All I’m saying is that we have way too many people milking the system. I don’t want kids to starve, but I’d rather their parents paid for them.

I’ll end this with one final caution. A law frequently does more than intended or opens the door to even more laws. How long before Florida decides that since driving is government-regulated, all drivers must be drug-tested before receiving a license? What about testing for a business license? Then perhaps a fishing license?

Grown-Up Jell-O

Three things in this world always make me smile, reggae music, Jell-O shots and Canada Geese. This is my technique for making Jell-O shots.

One package of Jell-O is normally made with two cups of water. The general rule is to substitute alcohol for one third of the water content. I make my flavors from lightest to darkest color, so I don't waste time washing the mixing bowl between flavors yet none become discolored. Each package should make 14 shots. Use cheaper liquors for these since no one will know anyway.

Utilizing this technique means each shot contains about 1/3 ounce of liquor (1/3 of a normal shot). It may not seem like much, but it can creep up and surprise you. Too much liquor in a shot makes a more distinct alcohol flavor which I have found most people do not enjoy. Still, a few such high gravity shots can mix things up. Another advantage of this formula is non-drinkers will often still partake of one or two shots and feel included in the party atmosphere.

I use an answer key so I don't have to field questions all night about which is which. Before making the shots, I number the bottoms of the cups. I record them and print out what is in each number. Sometimes, I wait a while to display this key. It’s fun to make people guess.

The answer key above is a good start, but get creative. I have experimented with instant pudding, milk and chocolate liqueur. It works, but must be kept colder than gelatin with regards to finished product. Sometimes a little lime juice or grenadine is nice. Some people add fruit, but I prefer not to. Just think of any common drink and add Jell-O.

Boil water and mix one cup of it with your Jell-O in mixing bowl with whisk (or spoon). Fill one third cup of your measuring cup with ice or cold water. Fill the other two thirds with your chosen liquor. Mix this in then transfer the contents of mixing bowl back to measuring cup. Pour into your small cups. Refrigerate per Jell-O instructions.

To save fridge space:
Get a cardboard box. Liquor stores have a large supply and if you are reading this, I suspect you have been there lately. Use a box cutter or scissors to rip into sections to fit a shelf of your fridge. As shots are poured, place a layer on the fridge shelf. Place a cardboard section over completed shots then place the next batch on top etc.

Consuming your shots:
Don't tell your guests how to eat these because it's more fun to make them figure it out. However, since you are the host, you should look cool by having this knowledge. Run your tongue around the entire circumference of the shot between Jell-O and cup. Dump into mouth. If you really want to enjoy the shot, don't be shy. It's more fun to shove it all in your mouth at once. Only girly-girls take three bites. For Pete's sake, it's a shot!

Not recommended:
Unless it is an emergency, do not use mini bathroom rinsing cups (Dixie or other). You'll end up eating paper and it's much harder to eat the Jell-O.
Too much liquid content will not allow the gelatin to set properly. Stick to two cups liquid.

Materials:
sharpie
small plastic condiment cups (available in large quantities at Sam's)
liquor
small boxes of jell-o
mixing bowl
2 cup measuring cup with pouring spout
whisk


Thanks for joining me in the wholesome family fun that is Jell-O!

Dear Celery

Dear Celery,

I hate you. I have tried for many years to be tolerant, but I finally understand that I am unable to come to terms with your acerbic crunch. Your raw bitter burst offends my sensibilities. For a time, I thought I could at least stand your presence in soups or stews with your most noxious qualities boiled out of you. I was mistaken. Your flavor pervades and anything you are a part of becomes less desirable as a result. I regret that it had to come to this, but I must abandon any semblance of civility toward you. This is war, Celery.

Sincerely,
Pam

Pop Quiz

I hope I get a good grade.