It's a cold day in Streeterville, 13 degrees and sunny at the Mini. The windchill is, well, really friggin cold. Put on your hat with flaps and if you own them, don your longjohns. It promises to be colder yet as the sun goes down. It's as Walt Kelley would have said in Pogo, "Looks like Friday the 13th comes on a Tuesday this month."
I took the Mini in to Patrick Mini to get the oil changed last Saturday and in the "Marketing Ploy of the Month," I was told, "We can't reset the counter because your car is due for a 50,000 mile checkup. Would you like us to do that today? It usually takes most of the day and it costs somewhere around $1000." Do I have sucker tatooed on my forehead or what?
But let me back up and explain a couple of things to you. Mini Coopers are no longer made by an English owned company. They were purchased by BMW. As a part of the makeover and marketing strategy, BMW installed onboard computers that tell you the temperature, your average speed, your average miles per gallon, how many miles you have left on your current tank of gas, when your next oil change is due, and, yes, when you are due for a tuneup/inspection. Now, every time I start my car I get a flashing readout that tells me I'm currently 25 miles overdue for scheduled maintenance service. It won't be reset so it stops flashing until I get that service performed. $1000? What are they planning on doing, installing gold plated spark plugs and a platinum Mini insignia?
I went to the dealers website and sent an e-mail to the service department to complain and I got a chirpy e-mail from a salesman who said he'd heard that I contacted them trying to get info on 2009 Minis. He was all too happy to sell me one of those. What? I don't like how they're trying to gouge me on service, so I'll buy a whole new car and take on a new set of payments so I can get free service for 4 years or 50,000 miles. Oh, did I forget? My car is no longer under warranty.
I sent the chirpy salesman an e-mail explaining that I merely wanted a realistic estimate of the costs of a 50,000 mile inspection, just in case the young man quoting me the $1000 figure had been mistaken. In short order, I got an e-mail stating, "You'll have to talk to the service department," and he left a phone number. I was under the impression that I'd tried to contact the Service Department before when the dealership in question tried to sell me a new car, instead of giving me a reasonably priced tuneup/maintenance check.
What this all says to me is that the dealership's unstated motto is, "We don't care what you think about us. Plenty of other suckers are out there clamoring for our popular little vehicle, so give us your hard earned cash and shut up."
In an unrelated incident,except for the fact that it is another example of over the top American marketing, I got an e-mail yesterday from someone claiming to be a blogger. The e-mail said something to the effect, "Could I link my site to yours? Your observations could complement mine." Anyway, I clicked on the website in question. It turned out to be something called myairshoes.com and was a blatant sales pitch for Nike, with lots of pictures of what,...you guessed it, shoes. Oh what a tangled web we weave..... I'd say, "Pardon the pun," but frankly I live to pun.
I realize that we live in the center of the capitalist universe and a great many people would love to see Adam Smith added to the canon of saints. Saint Adam, the patron saint of greed. Wait, that's not possible. Greed is one of those no nos. Is it a "Deadly Sin?" Didn't read that book, so I couldn't say, but it's at least a pretty bad sin, if not one of the 7 deadly ones and this country, and most of the developed world, for that matter, are swimming in greed and excess marketing.
Good old Ben, or someone like him at least, told us, "A fool and his money are soon parted." It seems that the main job of the MBAs of the world has become to help everyone they deem to be the fools of the world to get parted from their money, and they pretty much think most of us qualify as the fools to get parted from that money.
Somewhere back in Junior High, I think, I learned about the Republican Party and trickle down economics in the 1920s. Then I learned about the great depression. The haves convinced the have nots that if we all just listened to them, kept government out of the economy, and bought lots of stuff, we'd all live the Life of Reilly. Thought we'd all learned our lesson about that and then came the Reagan Revolution. History repeated itself yet again. Greed and lack of restraint ran amuck. This was brought to you from the Department of Redundancy Department. Enough! Enough! Enough! It's time we all took a stand and let them know that we are not simple fools waiting to be fleeced. Oh, and Mini, I'll be taking my business elsewhere to get a simple tuneup.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Jacques Brel Was a Liar
It's another gray winter day in Streeterville, 27 degrees and overcast at the Mini. A colleague of mine left work in the middle of the day today. His mother died this morning. My heart goes out to him.
The gentleman in question, we'll call him Bill for the sake of privacy, has been a bit depressed for a while as he is an only child and his elderly mother's health has been declining for some time. She has had Alzheimer's for some time and as the only child was set the task of seeing that she was taken care of. Every weekend became an adventure, as she slipped more and more away from any sense of time and reality.
The issue was complicated by the fact that his father had already passed away and now he was the last of his family, alone. Mind you, Bill has a wife and children, in-laws, and a healthy set of friends with whom he socializes regularly. His birth family, though, is gone. This is a terribly difficult rite of passage for any of us.
Who really wants to be alone? There may be some individuals out there who wish to remain alone, who could care less about human contact, and a sense of belonging. This is not true of the vast majority of humanity, however. We all long to belong, to be liked, to be loved. Family serves an incredibly important function. It gives us security. It keeps us sane. When the family unit we were born into disappears, it signals a crisis of identity. We are the sole identity of that group at that point in time and when that reality bursts into our consciousness, it's a tough one to handle.
I have been seriously alienated from my family for most of my adult life and as a result left home, family, and the state of my birth early on. I had very little contact with my family even before my parents died, but when both were gone, it was a bit unsettling. I have siblings, but they all live in different states and have families of their own and I found myself really alone. I have a wife, Babs, and we have carved out a lovely life together, but the reality of the matter is that certain aspects of life cannot be shared with one another. We are all, in essence, alone, trapped within the confines of our own minds, bodies, beings.
We are born alone. Sure your mother is there to comfort you, but it's a totally new and unique experience to be a body and mind outside the womb in a big, scary world. And now you have to feed yourself, instead of getting everything you needed through that cute little tube attached to your belly. We live our lives trying to fight off the aloneness, building bridges to other individuals, building families of our own to give us that sense of belonging and being wanted and needed. In the end, though, despite all of our best efforts, we die alone. No one can share that experience with you. Frankly, my experience in witnessing people in their last days, minutes, seconds suggests to me that a great many of them would rather all those guilty, needy, clamoring relatives and friends go away and leave them the hell alone.
In the end, someone very close to you can hold your hand and comfort you. That someone can try to make it easier for you, but you alone can face the coming darkness and whatever is on the other side. Some seek solace in religion and belief that there is an afterlife. Some of us with a rational bent to our thought find the
possibility of gods and afterlives a bit far-fetched. I only wish it were that easy. It would take a great deal of responsibility off of my shoulders. Ultimately, there is only the darkness, the nothingness to face, and you are the only one who can face it.
I think about Dylan Thomas and his "Rage, rage against the dying of the light," and I fully intend to do so. Where this line of thought has taken me, as it ultimately must, is to the realization that when we face being alone because of the death of loved ones, it brings us to face the reality of our own ultimate demise. It's funny that thinking about this brings to mind Dylan Thomas, but it also brings to mind Kenny Rogers, who had at least one profound moment in his career with a line from The Gambler. "The best that you can hope for, is to die in your sleep."
So Bill, our thoughts are with you, even if it means very little. You still have to face it alone. Of course, in a circuitous manner, this brings us to the title. Jacques Brel wrote a song called, No Love You're Not Alone It's unfortunate, but he was wrong.
The gentleman in question, we'll call him Bill for the sake of privacy, has been a bit depressed for a while as he is an only child and his elderly mother's health has been declining for some time. She has had Alzheimer's for some time and as the only child was set the task of seeing that she was taken care of. Every weekend became an adventure, as she slipped more and more away from any sense of time and reality.
The issue was complicated by the fact that his father had already passed away and now he was the last of his family, alone. Mind you, Bill has a wife and children, in-laws, and a healthy set of friends with whom he socializes regularly. His birth family, though, is gone. This is a terribly difficult rite of passage for any of us.
Who really wants to be alone? There may be some individuals out there who wish to remain alone, who could care less about human contact, and a sense of belonging. This is not true of the vast majority of humanity, however. We all long to belong, to be liked, to be loved. Family serves an incredibly important function. It gives us security. It keeps us sane. When the family unit we were born into disappears, it signals a crisis of identity. We are the sole identity of that group at that point in time and when that reality bursts into our consciousness, it's a tough one to handle.
I have been seriously alienated from my family for most of my adult life and as a result left home, family, and the state of my birth early on. I had very little contact with my family even before my parents died, but when both were gone, it was a bit unsettling. I have siblings, but they all live in different states and have families of their own and I found myself really alone. I have a wife, Babs, and we have carved out a lovely life together, but the reality of the matter is that certain aspects of life cannot be shared with one another. We are all, in essence, alone, trapped within the confines of our own minds, bodies, beings.
We are born alone. Sure your mother is there to comfort you, but it's a totally new and unique experience to be a body and mind outside the womb in a big, scary world. And now you have to feed yourself, instead of getting everything you needed through that cute little tube attached to your belly. We live our lives trying to fight off the aloneness, building bridges to other individuals, building families of our own to give us that sense of belonging and being wanted and needed. In the end, though, despite all of our best efforts, we die alone. No one can share that experience with you. Frankly, my experience in witnessing people in their last days, minutes, seconds suggests to me that a great many of them would rather all those guilty, needy, clamoring relatives and friends go away and leave them the hell alone.
In the end, someone very close to you can hold your hand and comfort you. That someone can try to make it easier for you, but you alone can face the coming darkness and whatever is on the other side. Some seek solace in religion and belief that there is an afterlife. Some of us with a rational bent to our thought find the
possibility of gods and afterlives a bit far-fetched. I only wish it were that easy. It would take a great deal of responsibility off of my shoulders. Ultimately, there is only the darkness, the nothingness to face, and you are the only one who can face it.
I think about Dylan Thomas and his "Rage, rage against the dying of the light," and I fully intend to do so. Where this line of thought has taken me, as it ultimately must, is to the realization that when we face being alone because of the death of loved ones, it brings us to face the reality of our own ultimate demise. It's funny that thinking about this brings to mind Dylan Thomas, but it also brings to mind Kenny Rogers, who had at least one profound moment in his career with a line from The Gambler. "The best that you can hope for, is to die in your sleep."
So Bill, our thoughts are with you, even if it means very little. You still have to face it alone. Of course, in a circuitous manner, this brings us to the title. Jacques Brel wrote a song called, No Love You're Not Alone It's unfortunate, but he was wrong.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Snowing on Your Parade
It's been a couple of days since last I was here. It's been pretty busy with work, jury duty, and Saturday errands. It has been a pretty nasty day in Streeterville out there, 30 degrees and snowy at the Mini. Still no word on the wind chill factor. No soft snow, silent snow this one. We're talking about a hard snow, a loud snow. A howling, pelting, in your face kind of snow. We're talking about a reminder that it's January in Chicago, right on the lakefront, kind of snow. We're talking about a "Maybe I should have stayed indoors and read," kind of snow. We're talking about a "Maybe I should have taken that job in Miami for a lot less money," kind of snow. We're talking about a snow that evokes W.C. Fields movies in which he advises us, "Not a fit night out for man nor beast." That's the kind of snow we're talking about today.
I sat in on an IEP conference the other day. For those of you who don't know, IEP stands for Individual Education Plan. They are for special needs students who need accommodations in the classroom. They have some learning disability. These conferences are attended by regular education teachers, special education teachers, counselors, administrators, psychologists, social workers, students, parents, and case managers. At this particular one there was a case manager, a special education teacher, an Assistant Principal, the student, and myself, no parent in sight.
The student in question reads at a grade level several years below the grade she is currently in. She has difficulty in English and Social Science classes because they are reading intensive. Yet, when reading the details from past IEP's it was brought to light that the student plans on going to college and eventually law school. Who has allowed this poor deluded child to continue into high school thinking that this is possible for her? The law profession is one that requires excellent reading and writing skills and a diligence I have never seen from her.
I had a conversation with a member of the Special Education Department about this and received a shrug and this statement, "We have to be politically correct and allow this if that is what she says she wants to do. There are repercussions otherwise." I am the last person alive who wishes to step on a child's dream. I also realize that there are some students who blossom later, but there are students who have the ability to make their dreams happen and there are those who should be counseled honestly and steered in another direction. Otherwise they are in for a big shock.
I have seen a number of students who graduated from Chicago Public Schools and went on to enroll in one of the city colleges. The students took placement exams and when it became apparent that they could not read or write at level, they were enrolled in remedial, non-credit classes. On many occasions, these students did poorly or failed these remedial classes, still had to pay tuition, never got any credit toward graduation, eventually got frustrated and angry, and dropped out. Each and every one of these students would have been better served by being counseled toward some vocational education. They would have been better served by helping them try to achieve realistic goals.
I know that this goes against the grain of American thought. The mantra in schools of education today and in public schools across the country is "All children can learn." People want to believe that every child can, with the right approach and methodology be successful and attend college. This is a big lie. Anyone who teaches in a classroom knows better. Every child is different. Every child has individual abilities and learns at their own rate. Some children learn faster than others. Some children have greater innate ability and can learn more than others. That is to say that some children cannot learn as much as others and when the educational system recognizes this, they should not continue to play out the charade that these children can be successful academically and go to college.
The only way that some students can be successful on the college level is if we water down the curriculum so that it actually means nothing. If no one tells students of limited ability that they should think about some profession that will not need academic skills, the student continues to believe they can be successful and eventually have their egos crushed when they fail. They, then, find themselves in the position of having dropped out of college and still not having any saleable skills in the job market. If they had been steered correctly in the first place they would have come out of high school with some saleable skills and perhaps a direction to go for higher training in their chosen vocation. They would then be more successful and productive in the current economy than they would be as a college dropuout.
This brings us to the crux of the matter. Who decides who has academic ability and who doesn't? How do we redesign the public school system? Who has the job of telling some child with limited ability, "I'm sorry but you should really think about vocational training."? No one really wants to be the bad guy, but as adults, as adults whose profession is preparing the youth of America for the future, we have to take on these hard tasks. Otherwise, unemployment and poverty persist, and our prisons continue to fill beyond capacity. There are far too many children being "left behind" because we refuse to admit the individual differences in ability.
I sat in on an IEP conference the other day. For those of you who don't know, IEP stands for Individual Education Plan. They are for special needs students who need accommodations in the classroom. They have some learning disability. These conferences are attended by regular education teachers, special education teachers, counselors, administrators, psychologists, social workers, students, parents, and case managers. At this particular one there was a case manager, a special education teacher, an Assistant Principal, the student, and myself, no parent in sight.
The student in question reads at a grade level several years below the grade she is currently in. She has difficulty in English and Social Science classes because they are reading intensive. Yet, when reading the details from past IEP's it was brought to light that the student plans on going to college and eventually law school. Who has allowed this poor deluded child to continue into high school thinking that this is possible for her? The law profession is one that requires excellent reading and writing skills and a diligence I have never seen from her.
I had a conversation with a member of the Special Education Department about this and received a shrug and this statement, "We have to be politically correct and allow this if that is what she says she wants to do. There are repercussions otherwise." I am the last person alive who wishes to step on a child's dream. I also realize that there are some students who blossom later, but there are students who have the ability to make their dreams happen and there are those who should be counseled honestly and steered in another direction. Otherwise they are in for a big shock.
I have seen a number of students who graduated from Chicago Public Schools and went on to enroll in one of the city colleges. The students took placement exams and when it became apparent that they could not read or write at level, they were enrolled in remedial, non-credit classes. On many occasions, these students did poorly or failed these remedial classes, still had to pay tuition, never got any credit toward graduation, eventually got frustrated and angry, and dropped out. Each and every one of these students would have been better served by being counseled toward some vocational education. They would have been better served by helping them try to achieve realistic goals.
I know that this goes against the grain of American thought. The mantra in schools of education today and in public schools across the country is "All children can learn." People want to believe that every child can, with the right approach and methodology be successful and attend college. This is a big lie. Anyone who teaches in a classroom knows better. Every child is different. Every child has individual abilities and learns at their own rate. Some children learn faster than others. Some children have greater innate ability and can learn more than others. That is to say that some children cannot learn as much as others and when the educational system recognizes this, they should not continue to play out the charade that these children can be successful academically and go to college.
The only way that some students can be successful on the college level is if we water down the curriculum so that it actually means nothing. If no one tells students of limited ability that they should think about some profession that will not need academic skills, the student continues to believe they can be successful and eventually have their egos crushed when they fail. They, then, find themselves in the position of having dropped out of college and still not having any saleable skills in the job market. If they had been steered correctly in the first place they would have come out of high school with some saleable skills and perhaps a direction to go for higher training in their chosen vocation. They would then be more successful and productive in the current economy than they would be as a college dropuout.
This brings us to the crux of the matter. Who decides who has academic ability and who doesn't? How do we redesign the public school system? Who has the job of telling some child with limited ability, "I'm sorry but you should really think about vocational training."? No one really wants to be the bad guy, but as adults, as adults whose profession is preparing the youth of America for the future, we have to take on these hard tasks. Otherwise, unemployment and poverty persist, and our prisons continue to fill beyond capacity. There are far too many children being "left behind" because we refuse to admit the individual differences in ability.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
This Is a Job for Skinny Man
It's gray, snowy, and 26 degrees in Streeterville this afternoon. This information comes to us from the National Weather Service. I neglected to check the data at the Mini on the way home. You can barely see Navy Pier this afternoon because, well, it's snowing. The serious weather guys, meteorologists for the uninitiated, would say "limited visibility." The serious weather guys would also not say they forgot to check the temperature and conditions at the Mini. They would say, "Mini conditions: N/A." In all likelihood,these serious weather geeks would tell you, "Lake Michigan water temperature: 32 degrees." I prefer Lake Michigan, frozen on top and pretty damned cold underneath. Sometimes inexactitudes tell the story pretty well.
We're a full week into the new year now and the resolutions have officially been kicked off now. I went to my songwriting workshop last evening and I changed the strings on my guitar. I have ideas and I've committed myself to further dilettantery in that area. I solemnly vow to be the best musical dilettante that I can possibly be.
Then there is the weight. As usual I gained about 5 pounds over the holidays. Now it is time to take it off and then some. I told Babs I'd lose 10 pounds before we go away to South Beach in April. This means exercise at least 4 times per week and eating substantially less. Seems simple doesn't it? The body is, after all, a biological machine. Fuel up. Burn it off. Too much fuel, it turns to fat for future use. Too little burn, it turns to fat for future use. Man, at this point I have a lot of future use stored up. Fuel less! Burn more!
The trouble with this scenario is that when a person is in their 20's they burn fuel just by looking at it. Drop 10 pounds? Hah! Do that in a week. Then come the 40's and 50's and that old metabolic rate takes a hike somewhere. I believe mine went to the beach one day and never came back, leaving me with a complement of spare fuel that gives the old torso a resemblance to certain aquatic mammals of large proportions.
I took up running a few years back and it was encouraging. I lost about 25 pounds. I ran the Chicago Marathon. Then I hit the wall. No, not the wall that comes at about mile 20 in the marathon, the wall that comes when your body achieves some kind of stasis and won't shed any more weight, no matter what you do. That still left me about 20 pounds beyond that youthful figure I once cut before middle age stole up behind me when I wasn't looking and mugged me. (Don't get me started on the hair.)
Well this 20 pounds less than the worst scenario was OK, but then I began to realize that every year I gain weight at the holidays and have to work extra hard to get it off to get back to that 20 pounds down state. Oops didn't quite make it back last year. Then I began to realize that sometimes work, and life in general get in the way and it's not always possible to run 25 or 30 miles per week to keep the weight down. What? You mean I'll have to make eating concessions. No more Deep Dish Pizza. I live in Chicago for Christ's sake. Forget that crap. So now the 20 pounds down became only 15-17 pounds down.
15-17 pounds down? Well that's certainly better than the all time high of *&%#. Trouble is along came Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's again and now the weight loss is only 10-12 pounds. I know there's a skinny guy inside of me waiting to get out but he lost his GPS device and can't find his way to the surface. Furthermore, I look at all of my siblings and I'm still the skinny one. OH MY GOD! My genetics are trying to make me one of those short red-faced guys who are very nearly as wide as they are tall. I have seen the future and it is my older siblings. Enough is enough. This is a job for (Insert trumpet blast here.) Skinny Man! Skinny Man, savior of the portly, defender of the diet! Leaps high blood pressure (and cholesterol for that matter) in a single bound! Faster than a trip to the fridge for a secret snack! More powerful than an empty calorie! Skinny Man!
Alas, skinny man moved to Southern California and is currently appearing in Grade B movies. What's left is a lot of hard work, so I must go to the gym and shed these hard-earned pounds one at a time. Catch you later, after the sweat. Then maybe I can justify ordering out for a pizza. Hope your resolutions are off and running as well, so to speak.
We're a full week into the new year now and the resolutions have officially been kicked off now. I went to my songwriting workshop last evening and I changed the strings on my guitar. I have ideas and I've committed myself to further dilettantery in that area. I solemnly vow to be the best musical dilettante that I can possibly be.
Then there is the weight. As usual I gained about 5 pounds over the holidays. Now it is time to take it off and then some. I told Babs I'd lose 10 pounds before we go away to South Beach in April. This means exercise at least 4 times per week and eating substantially less. Seems simple doesn't it? The body is, after all, a biological machine. Fuel up. Burn it off. Too much fuel, it turns to fat for future use. Too little burn, it turns to fat for future use. Man, at this point I have a lot of future use stored up. Fuel less! Burn more!
The trouble with this scenario is that when a person is in their 20's they burn fuel just by looking at it. Drop 10 pounds? Hah! Do that in a week. Then come the 40's and 50's and that old metabolic rate takes a hike somewhere. I believe mine went to the beach one day and never came back, leaving me with a complement of spare fuel that gives the old torso a resemblance to certain aquatic mammals of large proportions.
I took up running a few years back and it was encouraging. I lost about 25 pounds. I ran the Chicago Marathon. Then I hit the wall. No, not the wall that comes at about mile 20 in the marathon, the wall that comes when your body achieves some kind of stasis and won't shed any more weight, no matter what you do. That still left me about 20 pounds beyond that youthful figure I once cut before middle age stole up behind me when I wasn't looking and mugged me. (Don't get me started on the hair.)
Well this 20 pounds less than the worst scenario was OK, but then I began to realize that every year I gain weight at the holidays and have to work extra hard to get it off to get back to that 20 pounds down state. Oops didn't quite make it back last year. Then I began to realize that sometimes work, and life in general get in the way and it's not always possible to run 25 or 30 miles per week to keep the weight down. What? You mean I'll have to make eating concessions. No more Deep Dish Pizza. I live in Chicago for Christ's sake. Forget that crap. So now the 20 pounds down became only 15-17 pounds down.
15-17 pounds down? Well that's certainly better than the all time high of *&%#. Trouble is along came Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's again and now the weight loss is only 10-12 pounds. I know there's a skinny guy inside of me waiting to get out but he lost his GPS device and can't find his way to the surface. Furthermore, I look at all of my siblings and I'm still the skinny one. OH MY GOD! My genetics are trying to make me one of those short red-faced guys who are very nearly as wide as they are tall. I have seen the future and it is my older siblings. Enough is enough. This is a job for (Insert trumpet blast here.) Skinny Man! Skinny Man, savior of the portly, defender of the diet! Leaps high blood pressure (and cholesterol for that matter) in a single bound! Faster than a trip to the fridge for a secret snack! More powerful than an empty calorie! Skinny Man!
Alas, skinny man moved to Southern California and is currently appearing in Grade B movies. What's left is a lot of hard work, so I must go to the gym and shed these hard-earned pounds one at a time. Catch you later, after the sweat. Then maybe I can justify ordering out for a pizza. Hope your resolutions are off and running as well, so to speak.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Rod the Hair Guy Goes to the Circus
It was a fairly pleasant winter afternoon in Streeterville, 31 degrees and sunny at the Mini. Still no word on the wind chill factor. It was the first day back at work after the holidays and there was a great deal of buzz about Rod the Hair Gov's appointment of Roland Burris to the Senate seat formerly belonging to President-Elect Obama. I guess I feel it necessary to comment here, since I am rapidly becoming the only person in print anywhere, in the newspapers, in the magazines, online, or on TV or radio who has not yet commented on Crazy Rod the Hair Guy. I wouldn't want to be left out. This is a trend going back to childhood, when I was often one of the last ones chosen for teams on the playground. First chosen in a spelling contest, last chosen for a baseball team. OK, usually not last, but second or third from the last. Close enough.
Let's get one thing straight. Rod's in total denial about the fact that the FBI has him on tape doing things that are totally illegal and in all likelihood is going to spend some time in the Big House, and by Big House I don't mean the Governor's Mansion in Springfield. He's gone wacko. The Illinois legislature is in the process of impeaching him. The Attorney General of the state failed to have him removed by delcaring him unfit and unable to do his job anymore. The U.S. Senate has told him repeatedly that they would not seat anyone he appoints, as he is going to be removed from office and will be going to prison, in all likelihood. Yet, in spite of all, he went ahead and appointed a second or third tier candidate who didn't appear on anybody else's list of possible U.S. Senators from Illinois. Apparently, everyone else had already turned him down since he'd already been all over the news trying to hawk the position to the highest bidder.
This is the thing, though. After everyone else had been rejected by Rod the Hair Guy or had themselves rejected his offer, so as not to have a stain on their own personal record, Roland Burris accepted. Let me say that again. Roland Burris accepted Rod's appointment, immediately causing a shit storm in the media and in government. To make it all worse, a number of African-American Congressmen who had formerly backed the members of the U.S. Senate in their determination not to seat a Rod the Hair Guy appointment, suddenly made an about face and were accepting Mr. Burris with open arms. Thus was born a racial issue. Anyone who would not accept Roland Burris was called a racist. Just another plot to keep the black man down.
Let's be clear here. Rod the Hair Guy has not, at this point in time, been convicted of any crime, nor has he been convicted on impeachment charges being brought by the Illinois General Assembly in Springfield. He is still legally the Governor of the State of Illinois. According to the Constitution of the State of Illinois, his appointment is legal. Roland Burris is the Junior Senator of the State of Illinois. I'm not a lawyer, but that much seems pretty clear to me. There may be some legal machinations that all those lawyers in the Senate in Washington D.C. can come up with to stop his being seated, but we'll see where all of that leads.
This is not the point, however. The point is that the people who are opposing his being seated are not doing so because he is a black man. They are opposing him because the man who appointed him is a crooked politician who was caught on tape trying to sell that Senate appointment and anyone, white, black, Latino, Asian or Martian who takes that appointment is immediately under suspicion and is likely to lose that Senate seat when he runs for re-election next time around.
The fact that the Congressional Black Caucus chooses to make a racial issue out of this is entirely disingenuous. I understand the impulse to want at least one African-American in the lily white legislative body, known as the U.S. Senate. I understand the impulse to want a woman in that augustly male body known as the U.S. Senate. I also understand, however, the impulse to want someone competent and electable there to do the job for the people of the State of Illinois. I teach the U.S. Constitution to high school students every year, and in all the times I have read that document, beginning to end, I have never seen anything in it guaranteeing a Senate seat to any person, based on race, gender, or any other special interest group. In order to be a Senator you must be at least 30 years of age, a citizen of the state you are representing, and a citizen of the U.S. for I forget just how many years. That's all.
For a group of African-American legislators who formerly opposed any appointment by Rod the Hair Guy to suddenly cry "Racial discrimination," because the guy appointed is African-American is unconscionable manipulation. It has no place in the circus that replacing Obama has become. For shame.
As for the other guys, they may just have to recognize that it is a legal appointment. Why not jus quietly accept him and give him the support that any new Senator needs to do his job well. Maybe if we give him the opportunity to prove himself he can do a decent job. Of course, there is also the possibility that further investigation will show that Mr. Burris donated money to Rod the Hair Guy's campaign fund and got his reward and then we'll suffer further embarassment by having Burris and Blagojevich share a cell down the hall from former Illinois Governor George Ryan.
Sometimes I long for the simplicity of politics in someplace like Minnesota where former Saturday Night Live comedians run for the Senate and are called pornographers by the Republican opposition, where former WWF wrestlers are elected Governor. While we're at it, why don't we just have Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey take over the entire U.S. Congress and farm out the government of the states to The Three Stooges? Even if the stooges are dead, they can't possibly create less of a circus in state government than we already have.
Let's get one thing straight. Rod's in total denial about the fact that the FBI has him on tape doing things that are totally illegal and in all likelihood is going to spend some time in the Big House, and by Big House I don't mean the Governor's Mansion in Springfield. He's gone wacko. The Illinois legislature is in the process of impeaching him. The Attorney General of the state failed to have him removed by delcaring him unfit and unable to do his job anymore. The U.S. Senate has told him repeatedly that they would not seat anyone he appoints, as he is going to be removed from office and will be going to prison, in all likelihood. Yet, in spite of all, he went ahead and appointed a second or third tier candidate who didn't appear on anybody else's list of possible U.S. Senators from Illinois. Apparently, everyone else had already turned him down since he'd already been all over the news trying to hawk the position to the highest bidder.
This is the thing, though. After everyone else had been rejected by Rod the Hair Guy or had themselves rejected his offer, so as not to have a stain on their own personal record, Roland Burris accepted. Let me say that again. Roland Burris accepted Rod's appointment, immediately causing a shit storm in the media and in government. To make it all worse, a number of African-American Congressmen who had formerly backed the members of the U.S. Senate in their determination not to seat a Rod the Hair Guy appointment, suddenly made an about face and were accepting Mr. Burris with open arms. Thus was born a racial issue. Anyone who would not accept Roland Burris was called a racist. Just another plot to keep the black man down.
Let's be clear here. Rod the Hair Guy has not, at this point in time, been convicted of any crime, nor has he been convicted on impeachment charges being brought by the Illinois General Assembly in Springfield. He is still legally the Governor of the State of Illinois. According to the Constitution of the State of Illinois, his appointment is legal. Roland Burris is the Junior Senator of the State of Illinois. I'm not a lawyer, but that much seems pretty clear to me. There may be some legal machinations that all those lawyers in the Senate in Washington D.C. can come up with to stop his being seated, but we'll see where all of that leads.
This is not the point, however. The point is that the people who are opposing his being seated are not doing so because he is a black man. They are opposing him because the man who appointed him is a crooked politician who was caught on tape trying to sell that Senate appointment and anyone, white, black, Latino, Asian or Martian who takes that appointment is immediately under suspicion and is likely to lose that Senate seat when he runs for re-election next time around.
The fact that the Congressional Black Caucus chooses to make a racial issue out of this is entirely disingenuous. I understand the impulse to want at least one African-American in the lily white legislative body, known as the U.S. Senate. I understand the impulse to want a woman in that augustly male body known as the U.S. Senate. I also understand, however, the impulse to want someone competent and electable there to do the job for the people of the State of Illinois. I teach the U.S. Constitution to high school students every year, and in all the times I have read that document, beginning to end, I have never seen anything in it guaranteeing a Senate seat to any person, based on race, gender, or any other special interest group. In order to be a Senator you must be at least 30 years of age, a citizen of the state you are representing, and a citizen of the U.S. for I forget just how many years. That's all.
For a group of African-American legislators who formerly opposed any appointment by Rod the Hair Guy to suddenly cry "Racial discrimination," because the guy appointed is African-American is unconscionable manipulation. It has no place in the circus that replacing Obama has become. For shame.
As for the other guys, they may just have to recognize that it is a legal appointment. Why not jus quietly accept him and give him the support that any new Senator needs to do his job well. Maybe if we give him the opportunity to prove himself he can do a decent job. Of course, there is also the possibility that further investigation will show that Mr. Burris donated money to Rod the Hair Guy's campaign fund and got his reward and then we'll suffer further embarassment by having Burris and Blagojevich share a cell down the hall from former Illinois Governor George Ryan.
Sometimes I long for the simplicity of politics in someplace like Minnesota where former Saturday Night Live comedians run for the Senate and are called pornographers by the Republican opposition, where former WWF wrestlers are elected Governor. While we're at it, why don't we just have Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey take over the entire U.S. Congress and farm out the government of the states to The Three Stooges? Even if the stooges are dead, they can't possibly create less of a circus in state government than we already have.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Live to work, or work to live?
It's a bit of a gray day in Streeterville. It's 35 degrees at the Mini. Still no word on the wind chill factor. Been looking out the window and the ice melting and breaking up on Lake Michigan has created these little oval iceberglets that look like nothing so much as white blood cells as seen under a microscope, or at least as I imagine they would look under a microscope, based on my vast experience, having seen the Bell Telephone science film, "Hemo the Magnificent," in 6th grade or somewhere thereabouts.
It's Sunday afternoon and the holiday period is over. Christmas is done. New Year's is done. This means but one thing. Tomorrow I return to work. I'm sure there may be some odd duck out there who will be returning all refreshed and ready to go, looking forward to meeting the new year of work and conquering all, against all odds. For most of us, though, we will greet Monday morning, January 5th with a hearty, "Oh shit, I have to go to work."
Now I must admit that, as jobs go, working in education is not too bad. I could, after all, be working in a coal mine, "going down down down...." Thank you Sam Cooke for that. Reality is, however, that no matter what you do as work (We all know about the dignity of work, the feelings of accomplishment, blah, blah, blah...), if work were that exciting or cool, they wouldn't have to pay you to do it. I am a professional educator. Note the word professional. That means they pay me to hang out with adolescents and educate them. No pay, no education.
Like many another working stiff, I face Monday morning after a holiday thinking about when the next holiday will be. Hmmmm. I do have Jury Duty on Friday, so that's kind of a holiday, unless I actually get chosen for a case and have to sit and listen to testimony and stuff. Had to sit on a Federal jury for a civil rights case once. Was stuck for a week listening to how this woman resisted arrest and she claiming that the cops used undue force and assaulted her. Was it worth a week off from work? The jury is still out on that one. Bah De Bump!
There is that Martin Luther King Jr. holiday coming up, but come to think of it, I scheduled a doctor's appointment on that day. Truthfully, what I have to look forward to is Spring Break. In educatorland, we get this week off in the spring to go do whatever for a while, before buckling down to ACT tests PSAE tests, AP tests, final tests, and that stretch run that happens at the end of yet another school year. Spring Break is a wonderful time. For most of us in the colder climes it means going to a beach somewhere and getting too much sun and spending way too much money and enjoying the hell out of it.
Babs and I already have reservations at a very nice hotel in South Beach. Babs has a thing about hotel beds with sheets that have a high thread count and a bathroom with a nice stand alone shower. The hotel in question has access to the beach and a pool to end all pools, with waiters to bring you drinks and food and basically to make you think for a moment that you are someone special, not just another working stiff. That's what vacationing is about.
This is not to say that I have not had a sense of accomplishment at times, over the years, when students come back to visit and say, "Thank you." When I have run into former students who are doing well in college and looking forward to a productive life. When I have run into former students who didn't hold much promise and find out that they turned out alright anyway, and they are happy to see me.
It's just that there are people who live to work. They don't quite know what to do with themselves or their families when they aren't working. Their jobs are their lives. Furthermore, most of these people are not Warren Buffett. Most are very ordinary working stiffs, like you or I. I know about one person, ... OK he's my brother, who retired from the FAA as an electrical engineer and after a year or so, I suspect of going stir crazy, he went back to work for a private contractor. In my estimation electrical engineers, while not exactly factory workers on a line, or construction workers with hammers, are still not Warren Buffett either, and thus qualify as working stiffs.
What I don't get about this scenario is why a guy who owns a perfectly nice home, car, and lots of stuff, who has a perfectly nice wife, who has all the retirement income he needs goes back to work when he doesn't need to do so. The only thing that I can figure is that the thing that he loves is the work, or that possibly that he has spent so much time and energy doing that work thing, that he can't think of anything else to do to fill his time.
I am not one of those. As we used to joke in high school, "I should have been born rich instead of so darned good looking." Man, I can think of thousands of things to do with my time, rather than work. There's music and writing, and reading, and travel, and just plain relaxation. My inner self does not identify itself with what I do to pay the bills. I have a self that embraces so much more than that. It is just one small part of who I am.
This brings me to one of life's little petty annoyances. How many times have you been at a party or fuction and when you meet someone the first thing they say to you is, "So what do you do?" As if what you do for a living should define who you are as a person. I submit to you that there are some persons out there who are defined by what they do, scientists, politicians, full-time artists, actors, musicians. For the most part, though, humanity works to live, not vice versa, and each and every one of us is so much more than what we do for a living.
With that in mind, I will be back at work tomorrow morning and I will do the very best job I can at educating those teenagers. I will, however, continue to look forward to the next time I can devote to living the life I have earned, not earning the life I live.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Resolutions and Change
It was a pretty nice day on the 14th floor. Lots of frozen water out the window. When I went to the grocery store, it was 30 degrees at the Mini. Still no news on the wind chill factor. It is undeniably 2009 and even though it is the second day of the new year, I am just now getting around to serious consideration of that New Year's pastime, the New Year's Resolution.
Truthfully, Babs has come to me almost every year and asked me what New Year's Resolutions I was making. Inevitably I have told her in no uncertain terms, "I don't make New Year's Resolutions." I have always based my life on continuous growth and change and I always felt that resolving to change something about myself for the new year was just idiotic since my whole life has been one big resolution for change.
This year is different, though. I realize that sometimes people form habits over the years. Sometimes we don't get the results we hoped for. I realize that that old saw about "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results," has a bit of truth to it. It's time I made some resolutions and began making things change, taking control of my life (for a change). I had some serious disappointments last year and hope to enjoy this year and succeeding years a bit more.
Let's just review the last year. I spent 6 months of the last year, one weekend per month holed up in hotels for business retreats, and completing seminars that were designed to make 37 other people and myself competent to go into a failing school and turn it around. I spent a great deal of time and effort after the fact applying and interviewing for administrative jobs that never materialized. I'm still a teacher, not an administrator and the politics of that fact are positively mind boggling. That is a subject for another rant altogether. At any rate, lots of time and effort, zero results.
In previous years, I have padded the old teacher income with part-time administrative gigs after hours and by teaching in summer school. All of that dried up last year and I made substantially less money than in previous years. Not going broke mind you, but let's just say the road to a six figure income has become a long and winding one. Not there yet. Not clear if I'll ever get there in education. My other options at this point being primarily creative ones, I may continue to be one of the working class, not one of the elite. What else is new?
Taking a look at the larger picture from last year, we had another year of George W. Bush mismanaging the country and creating more ill will against the U.S. abroad, while sending the economy into the worst spiral since the Great Depression. Apparently he was unable to outdo Herbert Hoover, so his debacle will have to be known as the "Pretty Damned Bad Recession." Part of this is the fact that Babs's investments from all of her hard work of the last few years took a pretty serious hit. We don't need to go into number specifics here. Lots of Baby Boomers are being faced with delaying their retirement. Remember this important credo, "Friends don't let friends ... vote Republican." Oh, and the value of the home on the 14th floor is in all likelihood somewhat diminished. Thank goodness we have some serious equity we brought into this residence from the years in Gayberry. (Also the subject of another essay altogether.)
I recommitted myself to my creative endeavors last year, though. I just didn't do quite as much with those efforts as I probably should have. I let work and life in general get in the way of those things. I also continued to let family and friend considerations get in the way of being who I am. I can ill afford to spend any more of my lifetime worrying about what other people think. In addition, I continued to do one thing I love, run. However, I let life get in the way of that and I didn't run as much as I should have to train for the races I ran. I never got my weight down to the level I should have in order to get the results I wanted. OK, everyone should have gotten the picture by now. It wasn't a stellar year.
That being said, I have come to the realization that I need to make some resolutions this year. I have thought long and hard about change and I realize that change that comes quickly and radically is not often lasting change. Real change is change that comes slowly and incrementally. One still has to take action to make these incremental changes take effect, though. The more we realize our own control over our destiny, the more we are able to take steps to control it, to effect necessary change. It is time to resolve.
So what do I need to resolve for this new year? I have to realize that, in all likelihood, I will continue to be a teacher, not an administrator and I need to embrace that and be a very good teacher until the day I can realistically afford to quit teaching. I need to embrace that creative side of myself and devote more time and effort to it to create a better result. I need to seriously commit to completing creative projects that sound wonderful in their infancy, but need many hours and hard work to be completed. Otherwise, I will never get the results I seek. I need to work harder at being happy with the life Babs and I have carved out for ourselves and accepting that it is what it is.
Will I quit being a thorn in the side of the bad administrators at CPS? Will I put more effort into reaching those kids in my classroom? Will I actually practice my guitar and rewrite songs once I've gotten past the initial purge? Will I finish the play that still has only one act? Will I actually write the book that needs to be written about education? Will I get it together to write an entire book of fiction? Will I make the effort necessary to sell the children's stories I wrote? Will I lose the weight I need to lose in order to be the guy I want to be? Will I focus on one thing at a time enough to actually make some of these things happen? Well, this is my resolution. I resolve to make as much of this happen as I possibly can. Incremental works. One thing at a time. Small steps. Most of all, though, I have a pretty good life, and I resolve to be happy with it, not content, but happy.
Happy New Year all. Do what you can to make a better life for yourself. Stop whining. Stop talking about it. Do it. You are the only one who can make it happen. It just takes small steps, a little bit at a time.
Truthfully, Babs has come to me almost every year and asked me what New Year's Resolutions I was making. Inevitably I have told her in no uncertain terms, "I don't make New Year's Resolutions." I have always based my life on continuous growth and change and I always felt that resolving to change something about myself for the new year was just idiotic since my whole life has been one big resolution for change.
This year is different, though. I realize that sometimes people form habits over the years. Sometimes we don't get the results we hoped for. I realize that that old saw about "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results," has a bit of truth to it. It's time I made some resolutions and began making things change, taking control of my life (for a change). I had some serious disappointments last year and hope to enjoy this year and succeeding years a bit more.
Let's just review the last year. I spent 6 months of the last year, one weekend per month holed up in hotels for business retreats, and completing seminars that were designed to make 37 other people and myself competent to go into a failing school and turn it around. I spent a great deal of time and effort after the fact applying and interviewing for administrative jobs that never materialized. I'm still a teacher, not an administrator and the politics of that fact are positively mind boggling. That is a subject for another rant altogether. At any rate, lots of time and effort, zero results.
In previous years, I have padded the old teacher income with part-time administrative gigs after hours and by teaching in summer school. All of that dried up last year and I made substantially less money than in previous years. Not going broke mind you, but let's just say the road to a six figure income has become a long and winding one. Not there yet. Not clear if I'll ever get there in education. My other options at this point being primarily creative ones, I may continue to be one of the working class, not one of the elite. What else is new?
Taking a look at the larger picture from last year, we had another year of George W. Bush mismanaging the country and creating more ill will against the U.S. abroad, while sending the economy into the worst spiral since the Great Depression. Apparently he was unable to outdo Herbert Hoover, so his debacle will have to be known as the "Pretty Damned Bad Recession." Part of this is the fact that Babs's investments from all of her hard work of the last few years took a pretty serious hit. We don't need to go into number specifics here. Lots of Baby Boomers are being faced with delaying their retirement. Remember this important credo, "Friends don't let friends ... vote Republican." Oh, and the value of the home on the 14th floor is in all likelihood somewhat diminished. Thank goodness we have some serious equity we brought into this residence from the years in Gayberry. (Also the subject of another essay altogether.)
I recommitted myself to my creative endeavors last year, though. I just didn't do quite as much with those efforts as I probably should have. I let work and life in general get in the way of those things. I also continued to let family and friend considerations get in the way of being who I am. I can ill afford to spend any more of my lifetime worrying about what other people think. In addition, I continued to do one thing I love, run. However, I let life get in the way of that and I didn't run as much as I should have to train for the races I ran. I never got my weight down to the level I should have in order to get the results I wanted. OK, everyone should have gotten the picture by now. It wasn't a stellar year.
That being said, I have come to the realization that I need to make some resolutions this year. I have thought long and hard about change and I realize that change that comes quickly and radically is not often lasting change. Real change is change that comes slowly and incrementally. One still has to take action to make these incremental changes take effect, though. The more we realize our own control over our destiny, the more we are able to take steps to control it, to effect necessary change. It is time to resolve.
So what do I need to resolve for this new year? I have to realize that, in all likelihood, I will continue to be a teacher, not an administrator and I need to embrace that and be a very good teacher until the day I can realistically afford to quit teaching. I need to embrace that creative side of myself and devote more time and effort to it to create a better result. I need to seriously commit to completing creative projects that sound wonderful in their infancy, but need many hours and hard work to be completed. Otherwise, I will never get the results I seek. I need to work harder at being happy with the life Babs and I have carved out for ourselves and accepting that it is what it is.
Will I quit being a thorn in the side of the bad administrators at CPS? Will I put more effort into reaching those kids in my classroom? Will I actually practice my guitar and rewrite songs once I've gotten past the initial purge? Will I finish the play that still has only one act? Will I actually write the book that needs to be written about education? Will I get it together to write an entire book of fiction? Will I make the effort necessary to sell the children's stories I wrote? Will I lose the weight I need to lose in order to be the guy I want to be? Will I focus on one thing at a time enough to actually make some of these things happen? Well, this is my resolution. I resolve to make as much of this happen as I possibly can. Incremental works. One thing at a time. Small steps. Most of all, though, I have a pretty good life, and I resolve to be happy with it, not content, but happy.
Happy New Year all. Do what you can to make a better life for yourself. Stop whining. Stop talking about it. Do it. You are the only one who can make it happen. It just takes small steps, a little bit at a time.
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