Can't.

Rage.  Anger.  Sorrow.  I have 200 words but I’m thinking a million.  I’m wondering about mental health.  I’m wondering about gun control or gun reform or just guns.  I’m wondering how you justify ANY tolerance for guns after something like this.  I hear the arguments about illegally getting weapons. I hear the arguments about education and responsibility.   Does that really matter when you have someone shooting 14 kids?  Or ten?  Or one?  can you stand there and really give me an argument as to why this isn’t a statement that the ease of weapon procurement is out of control.  Are we going to 2^nd amendment this thing?   Should we do that now?   I’m sure that at some point I’ll be more reasonable about it but, right now, how can you rationally justify any of them in the hands of citizens.  Especially semi-automatic weapons.  We do what?   Nothing.  Nothing after Auroura.  Nothing after Columbine.  We got sad and cried and talked about how bad it was.  But we did nothing.  What is our government for if not to keep us safe?   I blame both sides.  The ones that want less control. The ones that are too afraid to fight for more.   

Oh Sweet Deacs

I don’t understand Ron Wellman.  Actually, the sad thing is I probably do.  He probably sits in the same group of people as Lindsay Lohan, politicians, and CEO’s.  So much power and so much influence.  SO many people kowtowing to your every thought.   Enough people telling you what you want to hear to overcome the immense criticism and/or warning signs clearly laid out before you.  How do you blame the psyche of someone like that for the things they think?   I believe that most politicians, famous people, etc. start out as normal people with normal thoughts and emotions.  And then the sociopathic tendency, that is laid in them genetically, lashes out and takes control when it is fed the meal it’s waiting for: power.  At that point you become flawless, unquestionable, and infallible.  All the negative criticism?  Haters.  All the difference of opinion?  Idiots.  All the justification?  Justified. How can he sit and watch Wake flounder in the two biggest money sports at Wake? I say money, because that’s what it is to him. The inability to think he’s done anything wrong.  That’s how.  Bzdelik’s great and I’m proving it by our marginally better than zero performance this year. Horseshit. 

Guh.

There must be some end to this madness.  There must be an end to divisiveness that keeps us from being able to have reasoned conversations without fear that there is some alienation occurring between the speaker and those that differ in opinion.  Or, hell, those with the same opinion.  That’s what drives the speakers, right?  “Leaders?”  The worry that whatever base they have pre-established by labeling themselves as democrats or republicans don’t turn their backs and make any appeal towards reason now impossible.  People can’t be centrists because the country feels like that position is too much of a compromise.  It doesn’t live up to the lack of gray area issues.  If you look at the party lines of the two parties, you may find one general theory that is the same.  What you find, though, is a yes on the right when there is no on the left, and vice-versa (I hate when people pronounce it ‘vicey’).  If you’re pro-life then I’m pro-choice.  You’re pro-welfare then I think it’s horrible.   I blame the internet.  There are 330,000,000 people in the country.  If you can find three (3.03x10^-9%) to agree with you then so starts your snowball of pure righteousness. 

For the love.

I should caveat this with something like: “I hate thinking stuff like this.”  I won’t, though, because Kristen Stewart makes me so furious.  I will say that I know it’s not her fault.  It’s not her fault that she’s an emo/normal hybrid.  It’s not her fault that the adolescent-girl-destroying Twilight is a megahit among 15 year-old and 40 year-old females.  It’s not her fault that she was born with eyes that don’t open all the way or a mouth that can’t smile or any of that.  Hell, if someone was in to the “receding hairline slightly obese giant head guy” thing for a movie or a series, I’d be happy to have her escort me across the kids choice awards stage.  Holy shit Hollywood, stop putting her in movies.  In “Snow White and the Hunstman” she’s supposed to be Snow White: the pinnacle of beauty and love and kindness.  And all she does is pout and make weird looks and tear up.  I didn't count, but I think she had maybe 37 words in the whole 2-hour movie.  And at the end, when she is crowned (spoiler), she stares at her subject looking like she’s pooping for like 2 minutes.

                                                          (Please...I need more fiber)

get it right

Often I am not as quick on the uptake as I would like to be.  And never am I subtle enough for that not to be known.  I have friends that deadpan respond to every situation as if they already know everything about it.  I have friends that have the sense to not immediately respond with “What you talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”  I have friends who sit there and judge your knowledge, garnering the meaning and info while the other person runs their mouth, and then become educated by the time they need to respond.  For me, conversations will be flowing and information will be forthcoming and then a word will be spoken that I don’t have a definitive understanding of.  In my last situation it was the word facile. It’s latin for “easy to do.”  However, I didn’t find that out until after I asked the person that said it what it meant (in Spanish it means just “easy” so I assumed it was that).  Actually, he told me a completely wrong interpretation.  When I was recanting the story of how stupid I was to a friend that actually knew the word, it became about how stupid he was.  Dummy. 

Fatty McGee

I'm starting to feel like Andy Rooney must have felt about 100% of the things he came across in his life.  I have (in most cases) either complete and utter disdain for new-found annoyances or a sense of wonder at the most simplistic items.  I can stand in awe of some realization of something I've done wrong/differently forever and then suddenly realized what makes it right/better.  This morning I realized that I sneeze like my mother unless I completely quell that sucker into an internal mind exploding squeak of a sneeze.  Moreover, though, I’ve realized that for years I’ve wondered why my shirts (button-up) have to be parachute like around my torso to fit my fat neck and arms. I still don’t have an answer for that question, but after looking at how they dress up models for shots with binder clips to make the clothes more form-fitting, I figured out how to compensate for it.  I wear binder clips all the time.  Ok, I don’t do that.  But I do pull my shirt behind me and tuck it in the back of my pants.  Voila! I have taken 260 pounds of fun and made it look like 254 pounds. 

God's will...

I listen to Howard Stern.  I know, I know, I’m a horrible person.  He does great interviews with actually interesting people, sprinkled with a lot of penis jokes/references.  I’m an (alleged) adult, I can handle that.  The place I connect, though, is with his anger.  I guess that’s what it is.  I used to think of it is just being negative but now I think that is the wrong description.  It’s negative and the idea that some other stupid thing made it that way.  It’s the reason I got off Facebook.  When people send questions about something I’ve sent them that start with “I haven’t read this, yet, but….,” or “Here’s something I’ve never asked for before but I’m going to pretend like I did…,” I get annoyed.  I think that is just projecting my experience on to their lack of, a functionally and irrationally inappropriate thing to do.  Sometimes it’s not.  And then sometimes I get worked up reading “news” articles.  Why read them?  Why do I do it?  However, how do you not get riled up at someone saying: “…even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that god intended to happen…”

Commercials.

So I'd like to say that I have this constant Christian struggle about same sex relationships, but I don't. There isn't a church that I've been a member of that hasn't had written in their core beliefs something about same-sex marriage being a sin and it being treatable. Actually, I don't really know what the core beliefs of the Episcopal church I grew up in were at the time. I do know, now, that they have a lesbian minister. So I would think that would put them outside the circle of this Venn diagram. I have, however, been a member of quite a few churches where many members of the church don't have the same core beliefs as the core beliefs of the church. That's a lot of rambling. My point is this. I've been picked on for being fat, having a big head, having zits, and being a wuss. I can't think of a reason (other than the standard deviations of all differential behavior) as to why one would want to put themselves in that course of ridicule and hatred. And I can't reason why other people should try and question that. If he cares, let God do it.  

HFM FTW

There's a lot to be said for having a whole mess o' kids. I think it's fair to say that I think three children qualifies as such a quantity. 90% of the time (I've adjusted that down from 95% very recently) they are the beacon of happiness. Doing loving and cute and funny and heart-warming things that they tend to do. 10% of the time, though, they are the most difficult thing I've ever had to deal with ever in my life ever. Ever. Some of the things they “do.” If I never hear “SISTER, IF YOU DON'T DO [insert task], THEN I AM NEVER GOING TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND,” or “...I'M NOT INVITING YOU TO MY PARTY” again I'd be OK with it. I'm not even sure there is a party on the horizon withing 10 months when that is usually said. Some of the things they “are.” Sick every other week to some degree or the other. And when you have three kids it's not simple multiplication as to that factor: it's exponential. I think that we are constantly sick between September and May. With only 10 or 12 times in the other three months. Super fun. 

We'll do it tomorrow...maybe.

I understand procrastination as much as anyone.  I live it, breathe it, and spend a good bit of my time trying not to do things.   Usually these are chores or other house-related items, but sometimes they spill in to things that are more professional in nature.  Do I get done what I am supposed to get done?  Absolutely.  Am I late in the performance of those tasks?  Never.   Do I sometimes have a day where I’m not as busy and could get a head start on the project due in 6 weeks?  Sure, but I don’t it that do that day.  Or that week.  Or, really, probably the next week.   It gets done, though.  I deal with commercial transactions on a regular basis where attorneys that bill hundreds and hundreds of dollars an hour work on all sides of the deal.  Sometimes there are numerous attorneys on each side.  My estimate on the actual “on-time” completion rate of these deals is 11%.  Literally.  I just looked at the last nine done and one of them closed on time.  I bet that’s the average over my career.  Why (when you’re making $50,000* to close something) can’t we do it on time?

*Non-word count related caveat - the attorneys make that, not me.  I wish. 

On Jack White

When you get paid to play music you are fortunate to be getting paid for your art.  Art that some people like and other people hate.  Art that runs the gamut from Mozart to Justin Bieber (morning sickness is rough, buddy).  Art that has people hating particular songs, compositions, or styles, just because of the genre they fall (fail?) in. When you get paid for your art you are a professional artist.   A professional musician, I think, is a different thing. Regardless, people absolutely have a right to expect a certain level of propriety in the administration of your art.  I think that’s a dumb way that I just tried to say “concerts.”  When you are being paid by 6,000 people (Jack White) or 17,000 people (Billy Joe Armstrong) or 85,000 people (his Excellency, W. Axl Rose) you kind of need to act like these people are paying to see your best work.   So, Jack, if you check out after 55 minutes for 90 bucks a ticket, even if you only got 1/3 of that you made $180,000.  Be crazy, be daring, be individual.  But if you are taking money from people so you can play your songs, be professional. 

Reasonable discourse

There is no greater current frustration for me than the irrationality and pure hatred that evolves out of the election of our president in the era of social media.  Spend some time and log on to the twitter account of @speakerboehner or @nancypelosi and see if they are actually giving you any positive information about anything, especially the betterment of the country.  Are they?  Nope.  They are spending time bashing whoever the lead of the opposition is with impunity.   You’d think that would be high enough in the government to expect some desire for teamwork or rational discourse.  You know who else does it but with less vitriol?  Both presidential candidates, @mittromney and @barackobama.  However, I have some hope there in that there are brief moments where they both say positive things without crapping on the opponent.  I don’t like today.  No one seems to be able to rationally agree without assuming the other’s point is retarded.  I was at lunch the other day and this was actually said: “I haven’t met a reasonable liberal yet.  I’d know if I met one because once I explained the facts to them they’d immediately become conservative.”  I'm not sure that is reasonable. 

Work is fun.

Sometimes people are so defensive and worried that they need to prove they’ve done nothing wrong that they will go to extreme lengths to “prove” their infallibility.  I find this frustrating, especially in the business scenario.  There is nothing to be gained in arguing with a customer that disagrees with a way you handled it. And when you turn that defensiveness toward an innocent coworker you’ve made it twice as bad.   Perhaps that coworker significantly softened the tone of the complaint, and recognized that you didn’t mean to come across as you did.  I’m pretty sure the right thing to do there is not call that person a liar and demand the produce proof of the customer’s disagreement.  I think right there you just called your coworker a liar.  And then don’t get madder when the email you asked for has a lot more difficult pills to swallow than what your well-meaning colleague conveyed to you.  You’ve taken a person that understood the situation and was trying to be delicate about it and made them in to someone that now understands the extent of your venom and probably has no real desire to do things with you anymore.  Good Lord. 

Elevators

I don’t understand the mechanical workings of most objects.  My friend Kyle explained to me how an internal combustion engine works (the old kind with a carburetor) and then my friend Wes tried to show me.  I took away from those lessons that gas goes in, catches on fire, explodes, and that’s what pushes the pistons.   I could probably draw a picture like a 4 year old if you want to see it.  As far as elevators go, they are complex computer controlled priority driven people movers.  I’m going to go out on a limb and say that when buildings are built, they are created with enough elevators to move people in an efficient manner quickly.  I’m sure there’s a mathematical equation that includes number of floors, people in the building, speed, etc.   With the answer being how many of those suckers you need, right?   Well I’ve got a tip for my building.  YOU NEED ONE MORE.  We’ve had an elevator on the fritz for 2 weeks.  That’s now the most stressful part of my life.  Ten minutes.   Oh, I could walk?   Eighteenth floor sounds great.  The kicker?  The Otis assholes are standing there watching us while playing angry birds.  

Gooner

Arsenal is a team that I started following to offset some of the obsessive angst I felt about my college teams (more specifically: their frustrating failings and my inability to cease and desist from obsessively reading internet board after board about the next best thing and the end of the world).  The thing I liked about the new world of English Premier League football in 2005 was that I knew nothing about it.  I played soccer in high school and then various recreational leagues since but I had never watched professional soccer.  Err, sorry Brits, Football. And the team I “picked” (thanks, Nick Hornby) was a perennial powerhouse that was a season out of being Invincible.  We had a flashy scorer, a dominating midfielder, a crazy goalkeeper, and a storied Dutchman.  We played fast paced, physical ball, and were either beating or competing with everyone.   Since I started watching we’ve won zero trophies. We even managed to lose our best chance in years to a team that was literally last in the league and got relegated. So I have learned this:  I’m as crazy about them as I was about college.  What’s worse: There are 1000 more blogs and boards. 

Indecision

I saw a SNL clip from this past Saturday that was 1) actually funny, and 2) pretty poignant (at least for my overanalyzing brain).  While it made many “points” the one that I took away was that if someone is undecided at this point (as far as the POTUS 2012 race is concerned) then they are probably an idiot.  I’m sure this is far from true as a whole.   However, with as divisive and different in how the political parties act, it’s a pretty valid point.  I guess that if you weren’t interested in making your decision on social issues (including social programs) or the economy then you could still be wrestling with a tiny individual issue that I don’t know about.  I wish someone could tell me what those issues are.   Even Occupy Wall Street (who protested both the RNC and the DNC have to have made up their mind by now, right?   They don’t like the maaaaan but they surely don’t agree with further deregulation, right?  I tend to keep my political viewpoints as tame as possible, but then again I spend a lot of time dodging those questions at work.  But, really undecided? I mean, come on. 

Back Brace

Yesterday was an interesting day, nothing really other than the following series of events. I was sitting on a curb waiting for a friend to show up.   An older gentleman was running (read: leaning forward falling slowly but technically jogging) and ran by me.  I guess he was concerned for my wellbeing and asked if I was ok (this was after I said “what’s up dude” to him).  Maybe not a lot of mid-thirties dudes sit on the side of the road staring at their phone.  I said that I was, to which his verbatim response was (drum roll):  “Well then kiss my ass and go fuck yourself, buddy.”  This did two things to me.  1) the slight sense of pride, which quickly dissipated, bowed up a little and was ready to respond harshly, and 2) I verbally expressed confusion with a “huh?”  For a minute I thought I had a psychotic break because clearly that wouldn’t have just happened.  Then as he is cruising up the hill I hear him continue to curse and talk to whoever.   This made me feel both better and worse at the same time.  Maybe he has Tourette’s?  Maybe he hates me that much.