"Unfriended" - Amazing It Took So Long

It finally happened.  I unfriended a long time friend on Facebook and pretty much cut ties over politics.  It was probably overdue.  We were close for a while but after a few moves we drifted apart.  It happens, of course, but social media and modern technology makes staying in touch easier than ever.

He was a middle of the road guy usually, but lately he had drifted more.  He was more bitter and chose to place blame on the administration. Not in a well reasoned way, but lashing out.  He was Trumpish in his insulting. 

He didn't have any trouble accepting the additional unemployment that was offered to him when he wasn't working.  Those same extended benefits that his newly beloved conservatives wanted to cut off several times.  However everything was Obama's fault.  Know what part of the conservative philosophy that you're missing there, bub? Personal responsibility. Maybe your 6 jobs in 10 years has something to do with YOU, not Obama.

And it wasn't just politics.  He insulted teams he didn't like, players that turned him off and he did it in a way that was holier than thou and it was grinding on me.

You don't like LeBron?  Fine.  Don't go online and call him overrated.  You just show yourself to the world as a fool.  And that's only one of dozens of examples.

This was constant and unending.  I was tired and had enough.

Today was the finale.  The final straw. I had to be done...now.

"He pledges allegiance to ISIS.  Lets see Obama and the liberals spin that!", he posted after the Orlando Club Pulse shooting.

Shut the hell up.

There is nothing liberal or conservative about this country being attacked.  About people gunned down in a club in central Florida.  There is no god damn spin to be had.  It was reprehensible.  It was evil.  It was hate and it was terroristic.

Just how did you think this was to be spun?  I'm liberal, sure.  I'm also absolutely insulted that he would insinuate that I would spin such a despicable act in some way to make it seem less awful that it was.  That there was any excuse. That a liberal is apparently incapable of loving his country or recognizing evil when he sees it.  It's a time for coming together and instead this guy just further tries to split people apart.

Enough.

Go F yourself.  I'm done with you.  Enough is enough.  I've already written that civil discourse is possible and I'm done with you all that can't have one.

Yeah, I'm tired of thoughts and prayers, but I'm also tired of bitter, angry people that choose to insult, bully and use name calling to try and make a point - I get enough of that watching election coverage...

Two Friends Walk Into a Bar...

A debate raged at the bar of the card club at Canterbury Park one weekend.  I was adamantly rejecting my opponent’s characterization of me as an extremist liberal whilst trying to make her understand that her boy, Donald Trump, was the bane of human existence.

Okay, that may be a bit of an over characterization of our conversation. 

The fact is, though, that while she’s not thrilled with Mr. Trump and has serious reservations about him, she is a conservative Republican and even though I’m not an extremist on gun control, I am a liberal leaning Democrat. 

Needless to say we have our differences- some of which are deep and likely never to be reconciled.

We’re also friends.  Her husband and I have been friends for years and she and my wife have grown close as well.  (Yes, you read that right – since last rant I have me a missus [her term before you rip me]…but I digress)  My friend is smart, funny, ambitious and strong (as is my wife, for that matter...). 

We can talk about anything and all is well.  Politics are a different story.  At the end of the day, though, the four of us can go out to dinner, have a good time and enjoy the company.

When I was in Washington D.C. and working for the House of Representatives, Ronald Reagan was President and Tip O’Neil was Speaker of the House. The two could not agree on anything as far as the direction of the country, the role of government or governing philosophy.  Yet they could remain friendly.  After Iran-Contra, Reagan wasn’t “Lyin’ Ronny”. When Ted Kennedy challenged a sitting President Jimmy Carter in the primaries, no one threw chairs.

At the end of the conversation we parted as friends.  There wasn’t any name calling.  There was conversation.  We won’t agree on everything political but that’s okay.  There is an ebb and flow to the political leanings of the country.  We live in the greatest country in the world where freedom of speech and expression should be cherished and nurtured.

Civil discourse and then compromise has served this country well for 240 years.  It’s very sad and disheartening to see politics and governance has become my way or no way.  Maybe the powers that be need to take a lesson from two friends in a bar?

Hate Dipped in Chocolate Still Tastes Like Crap

I was standing in a long line at a pharmacy recently and the family in front of me was Sikh, so the father of the family was wearing a traditional turban. The teen boy that was with the family was wearing an Army ROTC uniform and I noticed that the uniform was immaculate. Before they could check out there was an issue and it took longer than normal. Being a person who is mostly oblivious to most things I didn’t notice what was going on with them because my attention was caught by a stuffed dog sitting on the display next to me that sang “Who Let The Dogs Out” when you pinched its ear. (Side Note, I still love that song and fathers day is coming up so… gift idea!)

Anywho, while the family in front of me was processing their transaction, and over the sounds of the repeating music, I heard the mother of the family in back of me say, “Fucking Muslims… I wish they would get their shit at other stores!” and then the father said “Disgrace to let that kid wear that uniform. He shouldn’t be allowed to wear something like that!” That is when their teenage son said, “I know that kid and he’s pretty cool.” Followed by mom saying, “I’m sure he is good at math.” And then daddy ended with (No shit) “Fucking Obama…”

NOW. What the ever-loving fuck? I turned around to see the delightful family behind me and say “How dare you! First of all, they are NOT Muslim and if they were, it’s obviously not their fault that you are standing in line a little longer so it has nothing to do with their religion or where their nation of origin. And I will also have you know that his uniform is being worn with honor and he is EVERY right to wear it! And Thank YOU little kid for not being a racist fuck like your parents! And “good at math” is the wrong racist stereotype for Muslims, asshole! And OBAMA??? What the hell does OBAMA have to do with ANYTHING???”

But when I turned around I noticed that both parents were demonstrating their 2^nd Amendment rights with guns on their belt, dad had a huge scar on his face and mom was at least 5 inches taller than I am and outweighed me by at least 50 pounds. The kid looked normal but was wearing a “Limp Bizket” sleeveless t-shirt – an obvious psychopath. So instead, I pinched the dog’s ear about 8 more times in an action of defiance and disgust. I showed them!

I actually did walk out of line and came back later. I couldn’t be around that kind of open hate and ignorance and it made me sad. I was sad that I didn’t say anything, sad that that the Sikh family probably deals with this all the time but mostly I was sad for the kid whose parents were teaching him to be exactly the kind of person that I feel is putting this country in the state it where people think they need to “Make America Great Again”. Hate is hate and wrapping your religion, philosophy or opinion around it still makes it hate.

I thought about my own kids. I thought back to stupid comments that I have made in the past (yes, I am not a saint) and wondered if they stuck in their heads and were repeated. I thought about what they hear in school and if because it is coming from their friends, those kinds of comments carry more weight than their own upbringing or beliefs. I made sure to tell them about this encounter and asked them what they thought was wrong about it. To my happy heart, they pointed out exactly what I hoped they would… even saying that nobody even likes that song anymore! Jerks.

This being said, I also thought about that uniform and what that teen was learning by wearing it and participating in ROTC. Honor, Duty, Country, Commitment, Truth. All of those things lost in those comments made by those strangers standing 15 feet behind them. The shame brought to that uniform was by the people who are protected by uniforms like that and the people who volunteer to wear them, who run TO the gunfire and not away from it.

I have had the privilege of touring three places in my life that I think made huge impacts on my life; The Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial, The Vietnam Memorial and Arlington Cemetery. When you walk on these grounds I dare you to think that this county isn’t great already. I dare you to look at those names carved in stone and judge them based on their religions, color of their skin, creeds, backgrounds or the places of their births. Those people who are so quick to let hate fall out of their mouths most likely have never been to places like that the mean so much to our country and way of life. If they have, they didn’t let it sink in that there are all kinds of names on those stones, names from all around the world who wore the same flag on their shoulders and took the same oath. The names of men and women who gave their lives defending these same people who use their 1^st Amendment Rights like a weapon and then hide behind it. Again, Hate is Hate.

So to the innocent family who stood in front of me at the CVS last week, I apologize. I am sorry for my lack of actions at that time. I am sorry that I didn’t stand up for your because I never ended MY oath to defend this country from enemies foreign AND domestic. I am sorry that I didn’t have the courage to speak my mind and let my heart show at that moment.

I do not apologize for the actions of those other people. I will not lower myself to that. I have a feeling that one day, maybe someday soon, they will need help and the person who comes to their rescue will not be just like them. They will be a different skin color, a different ethnic background, pray from a different text… I bet those words don’t come out of their mouths then.

Truth Versus Power: Free Brady!

Power wins.

Tom Brady's 4-game suspension was upheld earlier today by a Federal Appeals Court in New York.

This really comes as no surprise.  The appeals court proceedings seem to favor the NFL and observers felt that the suspension could very well be over-turned because virtually all of this brouhaha wasn't about truth, guilt or innocence.  It was about labor law and collective bargaining.

Ultimately a Federal court was not going to overturn what was collectively bargained by the players. I know that there are fans all over the country right now cheering and jeering at the Pats and their fans (like myself, I admit it) but they should think twice.

Through all the craziness over the last year over this debacle, a few things have been determined:

The NFL really botched things.  There were holes so big in the Wells report you could drive a truck through and inconsistencies in the way the League handled the measuring of footballs in the first place.  And you'd think after all the bad press and inconsistencies they would have been dogged and forth-coming when the 2015 season rolled around: measuring the inflation of the balls before games as well as at half time and after the game and tracking the results so they could prove their case.

But they did no such thing. 

Maybe it started that way but when the data didn't support the conclusion they jumped to they stopped?  They sure as hell didn't publicize any findings.  I'm not sure, but I would have expected, if the data supported Goodell and his minions they would have shouted it from the mountain tops.

They did not.

Instead they relied on labor law and, perhaps, they were correct. The majority, though not all, of the appellate court thought so. The collectively bargained power given to the Commissioner by the players allows him to punish as he sees fit.  Proof be damned.  Ultimately, though, the players did this to themselves. 

The problem is that the test case involves arguably the greatest quarterback who ever played on a team that has enjoyed one of the longest runs of continued success in NFL history and is nearly universally despised by anyone west of the Hudson.  Fans can't rally around Brady or the Pats.

But beware fans of other teams who are smugly self-satisfied right now.  The next time Goodell acts like this - and he will - and nails your player to the wall THIS will be the precedent he will point to when tells you, "though shit, I can because I can".

And I shall sit...smugly self-satisfied.

Prince and the Soundtrack of My Life

"We're gathered here today,

To get through this thing called life..."

---Prince

 

Prince was a musical genius.  Like him or not, it is hard to deny that he was something special.  He could play the hell out of a piano and was one of the best guitar players of his generation.  Listen to him in the clip below and tell me he wasn't a wizard.

 

 

But losing a talent like that at a relatively young age isn't why I find myself feeling his loss so much; though that in and of itself is tremendously sad.

 

Prince carried me through a large swath of my youth.  His death carried with it the death of part of my past. 1999 came out when I was in high school.  Cruising North Shore beaches with my friends, senior dances and trips to Fenway Park were all soundtracked by "1999", "Little Red Corvette" and "Delirious". 

 

In college, Purple Rain stepped in and picked up where 1999 left off.  The week I moved into my dorm at American University in the summer of '84 to start a summer internship in Congress was the same week "When Doves Cry" hit number one.  The week I went back to Colby College for my sophomore year is when it was finally toppled.  That summer was one of the greatest on record and Prince's Purple Rain, along with Springsteen's Born in the USA, provided the music. 

 

Purple Rain was part of the soundtrack of my college years.  Parties, road trips and even the romance of my friend Dave and his wife were all soundtracked by Purple Rain.  I still know every word to every song on that album. 

 

As I write, Heather and I are watching the movie Purple Rain on MTV.  No, it wasn't a classic, but it means a lot to me.  While the music and live segments are tremendous, the fact that I watched it with my closest friends at the time in a dorm lounge on laser disc is what is special. It was also shot in and around Minneapolis - a fact that meant nothing to me then but means a whole lot to me now.

 

Friendships have come and gone.  Hell, friends have literally come and gone: two of my best friends, one from the 1999 years and one from the Purple Rain years are in heaven to greet Prince and I find myself mourning fresh again for them both.  Both young men lived the soundtrack with me.  And like Prince, they are gone.

 

These songs and this music is part of the soundtrack that is my life.  Music is woven into me like a tapestry.  I can't play a note.  I can't carry a tune in a bucket.  However, I have music in my head nearly all the time. Songs take me to a time and place very vividly, much like smells do to most people. 

 

The music and the memories of course remain but they are now different, inexorably altered by recent events.  Prince's passing has taken a part of my youth with it and I mourn for them deeply.

To Be Able to Pee Like That Again...

My mom once told me that growing old isn’t for wimps.  I didn’t know what she meant at the time, but I totally get it now that I’ve hit fifty.  My knees sound like Rice Krispies, my back aches most mornings, my hair is grey and I’m asleep by 10, up before dawn.

This all didn’t happen overnight, of course.  My back went south at 40.  The grey peppered in my late thirties and now, during occasional on air stints, it shimmers silver.  The snap, crackle and pop in my joints started around fifty.  I shudder to think what sixty will bring.

Looking older than I is nothing new.  Parents of opposing teams in Little League wanted to see my birth certificate.  I had a relatively long-term relationship with the folks at South Peabody Liquors back in high school. Looking older may have been an advantage as a teenager, it certainly is no advantage now.

Some folks insist on aging me prematurely.  When I was 47 I stopped for coffee at a White Castle one morning before a work trip.

“That’ll be seventy cents at the first window,” said the voice in the box.

I pulled around wondering what the special was on coffee today.

“Here you go,” I said, handing over a dollar. “Why so cheap?”

“Your senior discount!” the older-than-I lady chirped to me cheerily.

“Um…I’m not quite there yet.”

“Really?” she exclaimed, making me feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy.

“Really.”

“Hmmm…must be all the grey hair that threw me,” she added.  “It’s okay, I’ll let you have it anyway!”

Really???  Thanks!  It really was the least you could do after banging me over the head with how old I look - several times in a single interaction!

Last year Heather and I went to dinner at Treasure Island.  She had to make a stop on the way to the buffet so I struck up a conversation with the gentleman next to me.  When she re-joined me I excused us, explaining we were heading to dinner.

“It was nice talking to you,” he smiled. “I hope you and your daughter have a nice dinner.”

Good Lord!

At least I get an AARP discount now.

Last week, at a rest stop in Iowa, I glimpsed my future.

As happens when driving for a billion hours straight you have to pee and, usually, pee badly.  I parked at the rest stop and hustled on in.  I was well behind an elderly gentleman with a cane who had bellied up to the lone urinal by the time I got to the restroom.  I sidled into the stall nearby and proceeded to do my business, strong and steady. 

I heard the old man mutter under his breath, “Ah…to be able to pee like that again…”

Swell…

Sometimes punctuation can cost you $20...

The above picture is one that I took on Friday. I have seen this sign several times and read it a few times and never thought it would have an impact on my life… until Friday. You see, this past Friday, this sign came with a little, tiny envelope on my windshield holding a little, tiny parking violation. I find it funny that they make these so small; almost to point out that the fine is really small and insignificant so you really shouldn’t worry about it much.

Now back to the sign in question. I have parked under this sign at least 20 times in the past two years. It is around the corner from my favorite coffee joint downtown. It is actually a pretty popular parking spot! It’s not open very much and when it is, I always swoop in to take it. It is close to the coffee shop, has some shade and is off the main street (it is off of Main Street, actually) so I don’t have to deal with traffic zooming past. I would say this is a prime parking spot and I also think that I am not alone in the thought that it was safe to park there.

When I read the sign the first time, I thought to myself, “Well, I am not a commercial vehicle, I am only going to be about 15 minutes, and it is not a Sunday or Holiday… I’m Golden!” I also thought that it was strange that they would have to say that commercial vehicles were prohibited because this parking spot is on the side of a building with no door to unload anything. So I parked in this spot time and time again, not worrying at all. And then Friday happened.

Finding this little gem on my windshield set me off like you I can’t describe, but let me try. I was as pissed off as when somebody texts me and then doesn’t answer my phone call 3 seconds later… no that’s not it. I was a pissed off as when the automated phone lady tells you to press #3 to talk to a representative and it goes back to the start of the recording… nope. As pissed as when I am next to a driver who is OBVIOUSLY turning right, but has to swerve left into my lane first in order to make such a “complicated maneuver”. Close, but not really close enough for this exercise. Nutshell: PISSED OFF!

I read the ticket and it said that I was fined because I was NOT a commercial vehicle. WHAT?!?! The sign says “No Parking Commercial Vehicles. Only 30 mins. 8am to 6pm daily”!!! Hold on… does it say “No Parking. Commercial Vehicles Only. 30 mins. 8am to 6pm daily”? Not being the sharpest bulb in the Crayon box, I picked up the phone and called. When I called the automated phone lady told me to press #3 to talk to a representative and it went BACK TO THE RECORDING!!! ARGH!!! I pushed #3 again and somebody picked up.

I explained that I received a parking ticket and before I could explain my mental dilemma, I was told “Sir, it’s only a $20 and you can contest it if you want to go through all of that.” I told her that I was going to pay the fine but needed clarification about the sign. She made an audible “HRUMPH” and let me explain. She told me that what I didn’t understand was the “implied punctuation” in the sign due to space restrictions and that no parking means no parking and that the “international symbol of a picture that was circled and had a diagonal line through it was internationally known.” Really… THAT is where we are going to go with all of this?

Now it was Friday and late in the afternoon so I gave her as much slack as I could muster and told her that I didn’t understand why the punctuation had to be “implied” since there was a period after the after 30 mins to shorten it from minutes! Obviously some punctuation was able to be used on these signs!

Her reply was simple and may be the best customer service reply I have ever heard because I had no reply but so say thank you and hang up… “Sir, I don’t make the signs and I have worked here for 9 years and you are the first person to call and not understand the sign and we write a LOT of tickets under those signs. Do you have any other concerns? The instructions to mail in your fine are on the ticket. Have a great day!”

Got my money order today… dropped it in the mail. I hated to do it. I am really really ranty because of it. But punctuation got me! $20 at a time, punctuation is paying for our roadways and repairs and the like. I bet there are a lot of grumpy $20 money orders sent in!!

At least I didn’t misread this sign!