More airport hell.

Lots of things I would do were I benign dictator of this country. Banning car alarms would be one. And this would be another:

To all those who do not go to airports often, THIS would be required reading before each trip. And to get a good idea of the resentment and outright anger caused by disobeying these most basic rules of courtesy and efficiency, THIS would be required listening. Oh, and a required signed disclaimer stating that any injury to one's person as a result of infraction of these rules is the injured person's responsibility only.

In a nutshell, standing on the left is an affront to my very German sense of efficiency (and I am a huge proponent of the motto "lead, follow, or get out of the way"), and if I bowl you over, you had it coming.

"And to all a good..." *screech* *crash*

I draw the line at Christmas Eve church services where the pastor, such as he is, actually says "Scrooge was the kind of guy who would take the zip out of everyone's Christmas doo-dah."

Oh, yeah...no apocalypse. *yawn*

Things have kinda switched around here since a post I made a few years back about what makes Christmas...well, Christmas. The new stuff:

1. Love, Actually - Sappy, sappy, and trite. Love stories, all done in that lovable British accent. (Those Brits, so quaint...talking about love to each other while filming porn scenes together. And so charming! Flying to the US on a hunch to try to score chicks because Yankee chicks are such suckers for British accents! Well, um...yeah. Guilty as charged.) Also, I honestly think I would consider switching teams for Keira Knightley in this movie...she is so insanely adorable and effervescent and beautiful. But it'd be all off if Andrew Lincoln (the insanely gorgeous guy with a pulverizing crush on her) showed up, since I got a pulverizing crush on him when I first saw him. And finally, Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman. Oh, and some awesome music. And Hugh Grant in the only role of his I've ever been able to tolerate. And Liam Neeson as the coolest, most supportive dad in the world for...oh, just see it already. You'll love it. Even if you don't. You still will.

2. The Sound of Music - Speaking of sappy and trite. And overplayed. And sickly saccharine. And you know, I don't care. I've always loved this movie, and always will. I do keep it to one, maybe two showings a year, but Christmas is always a must.

3. Egg nog. Some things never change. Especially if you find a local dairy that makes egg nog. OMG but delicious. I've been drinking it by the quartful lately. Yes...that good. (Oh, and I don't bother with any rum or bourbon or whiskey or amaretto in it. Ruins its lovely smoothness.)

4. Cooking. Of course. After about four years, I think I've finally perfected making meringues, using a decorating tube and all. Peppermint and chocolate (with some flavoring...cinnamon or orange, usually) are the perennial ones. But then there's the fudge. The spritz cookies I tried this year that turned out great...all 7 dozen or so of 'em. The orange butterscotch oatmeal cookies. And I'm sure I'm missing one here. Oh yeah...my faves from years ago: the corn flake marshmallow wreaths, with cinnamon dot holly berries. I may have to make those next year, too. (I haven't even touched on the chocolate mousse pie or creme brulee...but I already brought those up.)

5. Ru Paul - Ho Ho Ho - This kinda straddles the line between quaint and fun. Recommended, even if only for "All I Want For Christmas" (...is my liposuction...and my cheek implant, and my chin implant, and let's see...my butt should be risen.) Ru's vamping is kinda amusing, too. But it does tend to get old after a spin or two.

6. Skiing - Well, we'll see. Mr. Man and I are headed up to the mountains with the whole clan. And lots of us ski. Problem is, I haven't skied in a few years, 'cause last year's snow was nonexistent. And since that time, I have been lifting lots of weights, but any sort of endurance training has been MIA. This came through loud and clear two years ago as I was skiing some blacks. Form was good, sure...but only for about four, maybe five turns at most before my thighs began burning fit to kill me. I was the last one down, usually, and people were asking me if it was my breathing that was a problem. Nope. Oh...and not only was this two years ago, this was also about 20 pounds ago. (It has not escaped my attention that some of that 20 pounds has found its way onto my calves, the likes of which are wedged into my boots so tight my feet may go numb.) So next week should be reeeally interesting. I'll report back...if I survive.

7. A new car! No, I'm not kidding. Brand-spankin' new. A Ford Fusion hybrid - a deep cobalt blue that's utterly gorgeous. Voice controls like you wouldn't believe. Navigation. Adaptive cruise control (so if there's a car in front of you, this car will automatically slow down). And an auto parallel-parking feature I cannot WAIT to try. Santa arrived early this year, and was extra generous. I'm not sure what I did to deserve it, other than drive my old, long-loved and lamented Subaru into the ground. The only downside goes along with skiing: we'll see how well its front-wheel drive self does up in the mountains, particularly with the snow that's supposed to start falling tomorrow and not let up much until Christmas.

Hear, hear!

So you want people to hear, hear what someone has to say? You agree vehemently with something someone has written or said, and feel it should be, uh, heard, heard throughout the land? You want people to gather closer to said source so they can hear, hear what they should? Then use those words. Hear, hear!

(Note: It's NOT "here, here.")

Nirvana - In Utero

I'm thinking it's because my first year of college sucked fecal cheeseballs. I mostly had a great high school career and succeeded in large part because I had a very well-defined schedule at all times. Once I hit college, that framework vaporized, and I realized how little discipline and ambition I had on my own, and what had only supposedly been my antisocial tendencies suddenly came out loud and clear. I was, by my reckoning, supposed to land at the front door of college, and continue soaring. Instead, I freefell and crashed. Homesick, withdrawn, lonely, and feeling utterly out of place in the land of cows, colleges, and Midwestern Lutheran contentment, I felt like someone could say "boo" to me, and I'd fall apart in a million shards of broken glass.

 

Not one month after I began my freefall, Nirvana provided part of my soundtrack. No trainjumper, I, I was not a big fan of Nevermind. "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was okay, but there was something about it that just didn't hit me the way it was hitting everyone around me, and the same went for the rest of the album. But since I was beginning my college DJ gig, I had to cater to the whims of college radio, and that required me to embrace Nirvana. As it turned out, In Utero was a pretty damned great album. As broken up as I was becoming, I at least knew someone who was suffering along with me, unafraid to put anger, anguish, self-destruction, brutality, defiance, and depression in such cathartic music. It provided a perverse foil to the good, wholesome Lutheran girls and boys around me, and I delighted in it.

The pop shit here didn't really grab me. You can take your "Heart Shaped Box" and your "All Apologies." Hell, even take "Rape Me." (And yeah, that's all "pop" in the harshest sense of the word.) The songs I really resonated with were the really soul-baring ones that went along with the most abrasive noise that Nirvana could come up with (with one exception). To wit:

Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle - Uh, okay Kurt. I'll indulge your loopy song title. Just howl "I miss the comfort in being sad" a half dozen or so times, so I know we're on the same wavelength, and all will be forgiven.

Milk It - This is kinda the musical equivalent of what was becoming my life mantra at the time: that which does not kill you warps you for life. I've never heard a 4/4 time signature be played so obliquely and unrecognizably. And Kurt slurs so badly here you can barely make out "I own my own pet virus/I get to pet and name her" before screaming out "DOLL! STEEEEAAAAK!" as loudly and derisively as he could. Whatever that all means.

Tourette's - Place this one up there with Sonic Youth's "Nic Fit" off of their nifty Dirty. You got a simple four-chord progression, drums that bludgeon you at breakneck speed, and some totally unintelligible yelling. What more do you need for a one-man mosh pit in an cinder block and glass shard room?

Radio Friendly Unit Shifter - God DAMN. THIS is, I'd argue, Nirvana's pinnacle. All the rage that Nirvana had to offer, spurting in all directions, suddenly became laser-focused, despite the deranged feedback undulating through the whole song. Kurt didn't scream out the lyrics for once; he dead-panned them in a truly frightening way, made all the scarier because they were just that side of inscrutable. Except for the chorus, a simple "what is wrong with me" repeated over and over again that echoed what I thought every day. And as loud as the rest of the song is, the ending is a seismic speedball that grows uncontrollably and threatens to demolish anything in its path.

Dumb - Here's the exception. Soul-baring, but lounge-intimate and quiet. I really, really got this one. For someone who prided himself so much on his brains, and for someone who had so successfully cultivated a close circle of friends in high school, I sure felt stupid and out of place my first year at college. So of course I was gonna identify when Kurt murmured "I'm not like them, but I can pretend." And like willful Chinese water torture to my psyche, I absorbed every iota of meaning when he droned "I think I'm dumb" over and over and over. It was self fulfilling destruction. At least for that first year.

(Nice bit of trivia I just saw, courtesy of our good friends over at Wikipedia: In Utero was recorded in Cannon Falls, Minnesota...just fifteen miles from my first home away from home. Somehow so apropos.)

Because Twitter is too pithy.

Quick update for my millions of minions. In Kona. Gorgeous. Starbucks for my legal speed before a workout, but gee, it's nice to have some time to myself. So I'm lingering.

Mean Girls, the movie. Major score for Tina Fey. Awesome script. No surprise there. The big surprise: Lindsay Lohan? Like eight years ago? I say this with all sincerity and nary a hint of sarcasm or snark: TOTES ADORBS. Like, the most perfect rendition of the cute, guileless SoCal teen girl since Alicia Silverstone in that remake of Emma. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I haz a sad for LiLo.

Established: a beautiful tropical island paradise simply isn't enough without good surf. I don't demand much. 3-5' is perfect...maybe 4-6' if I really want to get wild. But the waves this week have been dead flat, nonexistent. Normally, you'd see me chomping at the bit to get to the beach. But not this vacay. Hence why I'm here at the Death Star, on terra firm. I will have to plan for more in the future.

Damn, but clothes sizes vary wildly! Maybe obvious to those who are more conscious of such matters, but until recently, I figured a large is a large is a large. Now I put on an XL (because you can't contain these growing muscles...and let's be honest...this expanding midsection), and one fits loosely, while the next hugs the curves just right, and the next hugs a bit too tight for comfort. And because of my growth this past year, I've had to donate generously to Goodwill. Oh well.

Oh, for STUPID.

And now, for your edification, an excerpt of an e-mail that a family friend sent to his family and friends the day after this year's election, and which my mother deemed worthy to send to the rest of the family.

I worry that we have lost the America that made us great. The vast, voting part of our population has decided that they would rather be taken care of than be responsible and rewarded for their hard work, individual initiative and success.
This is not a republican/democrat thing. Rather it is an assault on the very fiber of our countries founding principles... What made us the greatest country in the world. We have gradually slipped into mediocrity. We have 50% of our population paying zero taxes...and wanting even more freebies! How is that a good scenario??? For almost 100 years America has been the worlds protector. Now, as evidenced by what happened in Libya and the killing of our own soldiers by "friendlies" in Afganistan, we are no longer respected, revered and feared. And, it seems, as evidenced by the election, we don't even care.
We have reelected a President who will turn us into a socialist country, having no idea that it will spiral us into social oblivion. In the meantime , he will continue to spend more time and OUR money vacationing on airforce one Than any other President in history. we should be ashamed.
Perhaps I am just a fatalist worrywart, hopefully things will work out ok, and that America can become great again. For the benefit of all our growing kids, I hope and pray so!
 

Now, let me start by saying that I understand the worry. That first sentence is universal, particularly amongst those for whom the day after a bitterly contested election is full of regret, extreme disappointment, and fear for the future. I felt that acutely eight years ago, after our country re-elected whom many consider among the worst presidents in our nation's history. I went to bed early that night. Through the door crack, I heard that Bush took Ohio, and felt a deep pit in my stomach. I went fetal. And I woke up the next morning full of regret, extreme disappointment, and fear for the future. (And I still have yet to forgive Ohio for that...with apologies to my friends who do live in Ohio.)

And there ends my defense of this e-mail. On to the scission.

"The vast voting part of our population has decided that they would rather be taken care of..." This is pure right-wing demoralizing bullshit, tainted with fear and loathing, and smeared on the wall with broad strokes. I heard it for years growing up, often pointed at me for being lazy and not working hard, and being totally irresponsible. There are few things less attractive than condescension from an ivory tower and assuming that because people are not doing well, that they would rather be taken care of instead of working hard. (I prefer the latter myself.) Also? The "vast voting part of our population," I assume, means "those who voted for Obama." From an electoral vote standpoint, yes, 332 to 206 is a pretty solid defeat. But the popular vote is - as of this writing - roughly 2.5%, among the smaller margins in presidential election history. And I'd argue that the vast voting part of our population decided to believe in a country that does not "take care of them" (Republicanspeak for "coddle them into uselessness"), but rather provides opportunities for them to succeed. That, I would argue, transcends party lines.

"We have gradually slipped into mediocrity." Depends on the benchmarks by which you define mediocrity. (Non-sequitur: here's a brillant excerpt from one of my fave shows, The Newsroom.) Economically, I'd unfortunately agree...but the question of why divides me from this writer. From a social standpoint, though, we've made leaps and bounds over where we have been. There have been many periods of economic prosperity throughout the 20th century: the 1920s, the 1950s, the 1980s, even the 1990s. But accompanying the first part of the century was stifling social and often political conservatism, replete with very narrow standards of propriety. My parents look back, in particular, on the 1950s as an era to emulate. Everyone knew their place. Everyone functioned efficiently. And our country was full of civic pride. (At least, that was the facade.) I could go on about the 1950s and how "perfect" it was. But I think the majority of Americans suffered quite a bit under this facade. And I am certain the majority of Americans now would chafe under its sexism, racism, and homophobia. At any rate, economically, we ebb and surge. And you could argue that there are strong elements of bread and circuses in society nowadays, which I find highly unfortunate. But socially, we are far from mediocre; indeed, we continue to improve every day. (The writer would probably demur...his vision of a perfect America fades more and more into the sunset each day. And I've debunked that vision.)

"We have 50% of our population paying zero taxes." Oh HELL no. Hold my weave while I go medieval on this one. I'm sure what this writer meant was "zero federal income tax." So sez the Heritage Foundation. No talk about state or local income tax, to say nothing of sales tax. The implication is that 50% of the population is not contributing their fair share. Speaking of not contributing a fair share, show me a person paying no taxes, and I'll show you a corporation earning many times more than that person, yet also paying no taxes. How many corporations like to take advantage of loopholes and contort themselves into avoiding taxes? Many more than I'd like to think of...but the amount of money that could be pumped into our economy if these corporations actually did pay their fair share would be staggering...and would bring us out of a deficit and into unquestionable prosperity. I look at corporations that shirk their duty to contribute their fair share to America as destructive, unpatriotic, and un-American. To contribute to the infrastructure, stability, and growth of a country by contributing a portion of earnings to the body that governs it is patriotic. (Obviously, within reason. It is entirely possible to contribute a significant share of profits and still remain profitable. I adhere to the Elizabeth Warren school of thought.)

"For almost 100 years America has been the worlds (sic) protector." Said as if that's something to be proud of. And perhaps it is. Sorry, but I tend to be a bit more...um...hmm. "Isolationist" is too strong of a word. Let's just say that I don't think America needs to fulfill that role. We've got plenty of problems at home to deal with. Which leads me to the next point...

Afghanistan. My grandfather spent years and years after retiring from the army (as a brigadier general) in Afghanistan and Pakistan, fascinated by the culture and society, and working to defend it from the then-Soviet Union. His experience was that as soon as the Soviet Union dissolved, and the respective countries began to address their own issues, the unity that Afghanis and Pakistanis had against their Soviet enemies also dissolved. These countries are largely composed of smaller social groups that have historically always fought and killed each other, often in the service of honor and vengeance. Here's the idea: You killed my father, therefore I am bound to honor the memory of my father to wreak vengeance and kill you. Easy to see how this self-perpetuates into perpetuity. In my grandfather's opinion, outside influence could help decrease this violence, but could not address the centuries-long vengeance that dictates so much of their culture. The sooner we get out of Afghanistan, the better.

"We have reelected a President who will turn us into a socialist country..." *groan* Highly, highly unlikely. Where's the evidence? Obamacare? Individual mandates? The policy that the Heritage Foundation began endorsing back in the day? The policy that Romney - that socialist Commie pinko - spearheaded successfully in his home state? Yeah, that one. Nope, sorry. Try again. If not Obamacare, then what else? Where's the evidence? I see none.
Incidentally, naming Obama a socialist is a hairsbreadth from outright racism...the hatred behind it is the same. Only racism isn't as politically correct nowadays. You can accuse others of being un-American and get away with it more easily. Of course, racist anti-Obama sentiment is still insanely easy to find. Just not quite as visible.

"...he will continue to spend more time and OUR money vacationing on airforce one Than any other President in history." (all sic) How do you back this up? How can you predict this? If the issue is wasting money and time on vacation instead of fulfilling duties as this nation's president, then God, this is an easy issue to address, particularly for those who love Dubya.

I'm not a particularly political individual, but sometimes you have to respond to ignorance when it hits close to home. My work here is done for now. I've a life to lead.

Judy Blume

Back in elementary school, and definitely around 4th and 5th grade, just like in any good respectable public school back in the early '80s, Judy Blume books reigned supreme. Beverly Cleary and the Encyclopedia Brown books ran a close second, but began fading as girls got older and more mature and began to wonder just what in the world was waiting for them around the corner. I assume. Our librarian, bless her, definitely pushed the Judy Blume. And clueless boy that I was, I read lots of it without really realizing what it was all about. Definitely Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret. But I also read Blubber, Deenie and Tiger Eyes. I don't remember much about them to this day, other than...well, I think Deenie was about a girl with...scoliosis, maybe? (I could look online, but that would spoil all the fun of me not knowing, and of you Judy Blume fans amused at my ignorance.) Also had a masturbation scene in there, I believe, that I only got after I reread the pertinent chapter, for some reason. And Blubber was the consummate anti-bullying book. Still should be required reading for tweens, I think. But it's only now, after reading this, that I actually learned that Margaret was partially about a girl getting her first period. Like I said, I was clueless. (I know you all are smirking at me. I feel it.)

I have great respect for Judy Blume. I mean, she wrote quite honestly about issues that I think are incredibly important to girls growing up and hitting puberty. The fact that her books have been banned many times also warms my heart - you know someone's doing something right if it rankles the old guard like that - although it bums me to know that some girls never got a chance to read her books. It makes me wish she had a male counterpart. Robert Cormier comes to mind right off, but he dwelled mainly on the bullying aspect of being a teenage boy...usually uncomfortably so. The Chocolate War was brilliant, and I devoured it time and again, but man, he reveled in torturing his characters...protagonists, enemies, incidentals, all of 'em. Plus, the book took place at a private boarding school, so it reeked of privilege and money, making the shenanigans there even more evil than usual. So he wasn't the most pleasant writer. At some point, I also plowed through I Am The Cheese, but apparently it didn't make much of an impact on me, aside from the ending, where (again, without looking online for spoilers) I think there was...a glorious and triumphant suicide? That's quite the paradox, but if I'm right, that's exactly what happens. I also loved all the Jack London stories, taking place in the wilderness of Canada and Alaska, the ultimate brave and valiant struggle of man vs. nature. But really, that was it for major writers I knew who hit the target for me back when I was a tween, give or take.

Fun fact: I actually lost Deenie for a while back in 5th grade, and I had to suffer the embarrassment of the librarian calling my name out a number of times in front of the whole class that the book was overdue. It kinda begged the question: what kind of a pervert boy would keep a book with a girl's masturbation scene over a month beyond its due date? I swear on a stack of all things true and holy, not me. I honestly did lose it, and was all too thrilled to return the book and not endure that shame.

=====

Okay, now that I've looked at more of the Judy Blume canon...my God, did she write a lot of books! Freckle Juice, Starring Sally J. Freedman As Herself, Forever, Then Again, Maybe I Won't, Superfudge, Tales of a Fourth-Grade Nothing, The One in the Middle is the Green Kangaroo...wow. Her influence extends a lot further than I originally thought it had. I've read all of 'em. (And that's not even all she wrote.) Color me impressed.

The Wrong Child?

Yeah, yeah, poor poor pitiful Pearl. Put a sock into it. Don't read if you don't want. I'ma spew pity party chunks all over this here screed.

Still convinced that as a youngster, I was dealing with a mild form of autism...perhaps Asperger's or even a bit milder. Reading The Autism Revolution kinda clued me into that. I was reading it on the recommendation of a patient of mine. But it makes me wonder why in the world I was not taken in for evaluation. Strange mood swings that seemingly came out of nowhere, self-absorption, some rather significant aversion to social situations, occasional absence spells (mild seizures?) that drove my parents nuts, a few fainting spells, evidence of "stimming" (repetitive actions that serve to release neural excitement), and some idiot savant-ish qualities (absent-mindedness right alongside academic excellence). Lots of these have persisted to the present day: the stimming (on a daily basis, no less, whenever I get happy or overexcited), absence/mind drifting, some moderate antisocial tendencies, more self-absorption, and perhaps worst of all, those mild seizures eventually developed into full-blown grand mal seizures. First one was probably around 10, the next about 5 years later (while snowboarding! Thank GOD I was on terra firm and not on the chairlift!), and another five scattered between then and 2005...including two in one day. So yeah, I'm not all neurologically sound. In one rare instance of acknowledgment of conventional medicine, I have to say I'm grateful for my antiseizure meds...even if it means that my liver is very unhappy with me all the time. (Chronically elevated liver enzymes = slow destruction of the liver. Perhaps I should be on some milk thistle or other liver regenerative therapy.)

Of course, getting into a fight with Mr. Man didn't help matters last night. Compound the two, and you've got yourself one seriously insecure kid inside a grown man's body. You get to wondering...if I have this much of an issue with being social, and am this screwed up, am I really the right kind of person to be in a relationship? Don't get me wrong: Mr. Man is all kinds of awesome. He's just so social, and I come in on the opposite end of the spectrum. Can't help but feel insignificant in such a situation. And I have dreams and ambitions, but I feel like they've been lost in the shuffle of being in a relationship with someone else. I look back on the only 6 months of my adult life where I was living on my own, and I really, really flourished. It's occasionally tempting to chuck it all, especially when I look at my interests vs. his, and there is very little overlap.

God. Just want to crawl back into bed. Particularly since I slept like shit last night...tossed and turned, finally fell asleep around 2, and woke up at 7. (I'm not one of these people who can thrive on 5 or fewer hours of sleep a night.) Hmm...maybe I will. After a good full lunch.

Save Big Bird!

Here's what PBS meant to me as a child/budding nerd:

Sesame Street - The original, the best.
The Electric Company - For those into phonetics (and OMG, was I ever.)
3-2-1 Contact - More on the science side of things (didn't appeal quite as much.)
Vision On - Yes, I actually watched this way back in the day. Was there ever a nerdier show?
Geometric iterations - I saw how cool it was to take a simple figure, rotate a superimposed figure 90 degrees, then repeat the process over and over to produce some amazing designs. No talking. Nerdy-as-Moog music. 100% awesome. And of course, I can't find a video for this.
Vegetable Soup - All's I remember is the opening credits.
Big Blue Marble - Ditto...although this show might have subliminally planted a tiny environmental ethic in me, even at the ripe old age of 3 or 4.
Mr. Roger's Neighborhood - Yeah, some people thought he was a bit weird and smarmy. And as an adult, I can see it. But as a kid, it passed me by. All I saw was a gentle guy who was good friends with his neighbors and had some kinda creepy but still cool finger puppets. And I loved that trolley.

Then, as I got older:
The St. Olaf Christmas Festival - I'm biased, being an alum and all, but can you imagine this competing on any of the major networks with the likes of football? Or any Christmas cartoon? Events like these need to be preserved.
TeleTunes - Very few of these videos would have been considered for MTV, unless it were on some version of 120 Minutes that played at 3 am. Only found in the Denver area in the late '80s-early '90s.
The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross - Who doesn't love happy little trees? Or happy little clouds? I watched this show in high school not to aspire to become a painter, but because after a long, tough day, Bob Ross was the best nonpharmaceutical alternative to Prozac or Xanax. One half-hour with this guy, and suddenly all was well with the world again. R.I.P.

If Romney gets elected, you can say goodbye to all of the above. Or at least, their modern equivalents. It'd be a tremendous loss.

Talking with my mom recently, I was kinda surprised to hear her say that she gave full credit to PBS for an excellent out-of-school education when I was really young. Considering how much flak TV gets nowadays for contributing to the dumbing down of our society, this was quite the testimonial. Apparently, I just would sit in front of the tube, and gape, hypnotized by the moving pictures, utterly undisturbed by anything else, absorbing everything unquestioningly. And all through the K-12 treadmill, I was consistently among the top students in my class. My mom is convinced the two are linked inextricably. So put that in your pipe and smoke it, Romney.

Oh, what the hell. PBS can say it better than I can.