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.