Independence Day...

It is July 4th--time for my annual protest/reminder. Below follows the entire original text of the Declaration of Independence. Please read, observe, and share as you consume copious amounts of grilled meat and beer and set off explosives. (For "King" you may substitute "current form of government"--note I did *not* say "current administration". Text in bold is my emphasis.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bonds which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. --Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise; the state remaining in the meantime exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands.

He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers.

He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies without the consent of our legislature.

He has affected to render the military independent of and superior to civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by mock trial, from punishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states:

For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing taxes on us without our consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury:

For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pretended offenses:

For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule in these colonies:

For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our governments:

For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection and waging war against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burned our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow citizens taken captive on the high seas to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare, is undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends.

We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.

Clip of the Week...

This kid's mom cancelled his World of Warcraft account. His brother, prophet that he was, videotaped the post-cancellation tantrum.



I have no words.

Clip of the week...

The people at Microsoft, in their continuing effort to take over the world, have started their own search engine, Bing.com. Their ad campaign speaks volumes about our society (and, ironically, their own effort to create even more information overload). Here is a medley of their first three ads--the last one (starting at 0:48)is the best, in my opinion:



My friend Skate wrote about this phenomenon almost a year ago. In her blog entry "Wait, I'll Just Look That Up", she talked about how it feels to go crazy. And/or become totally dependent on ADD-style information referencing. You should read it.

Yesterday's 'moment in history'...

So, I logged on to Google yesterday--they often have some sort of artistic treatment of their logo as a nod to something significant that day. Here is the splash page from Saturday, June 6th, 2009:



It was apparently the 25th anniversary of Tetris yesterday. Now, I am a big fan of that game (if you don't believe me, you must not have read the blog entry I wrote about my addiction to the little blocks). But June 6th also happened to be the 65th anniversary of D-Day, the allied invasion of Normandy to save the Europeans from the Nazis. (Still waiting on that 'thank you' note, France.)

Of the two, I would have thought that the latter would have gotten the nod. But I guess it says something about our society that a video game was considered more significant than the liberation of Europe. Or maybe that the number 25 is more important than 65, in terms of anniversaries ("Silver" versus "ten more years until diamond"). Or maybe a Tetris version of the Google logo is just more visually interesting than a Normandy version. Whatever the reasoning, I thought it a little weird. Ah, America.

Clip of the week...

Twenty years ago? It seems like only yesterday:



A not-too-badly-done video here was made in 2007 as a memorial. It includes this text:

Though all records differ in their statistics, an estimated 5,000 people died. Thousands more were injured. The topic is still a political taboo in mainland China. Any public discussion of it is regarded as inappropriate. As a result of the strong Chinese government censorship, the news media is forbidden to report anything related to the subject unless it takes the Communist Party of China's view. This part of history has disappeared in most Chinese media.

There is a special on PBS called "The Tank Man" that is all about the continuing fallout of this event. If you click here (and I highly recommend you do), you can watch the entire thing online. It is essentially a program about how information is controlled in China, even to this day. It includes some footage of college students being shown photos of Tiananmen who, when asked what they think the photos represent, answered, 'I dunno...a parade?'

Hard to believe that, even now, a Google image search on the US page yields this:



While the Chinese Google image search produces this:



I wish I had a solution for Times Like These.

Time to Character Up...

By Rudyard Kipling:

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

By Anonymous:

IF - you can start the day without caffeine or pep pills,
IF - you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,
IF - you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,
IF - you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,
IF - you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,
IF - you can overlook it when people take things out on you,
IF - when, through no fault of your own, something goes wrong,
IF - you can take criticism and blame without resentment,
IF - you can face the world without lies and deceit,
IF - you can conquer tension without medical help,
IF - you can relax without liquor,
IF - you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

THEN, you are almost as good as your dog or your cat.

Good words.

Getting in touch with your inner detective...

Oh. My. God. I don't know whether to be amused, or horrified, or what exactly. But here is a link to Pick the Perp, where you can try to match an image of someone from a police lineup to a crime. Here's an example:



Give it a shot. Er...a 'go'.

With heart on sleeve (part 2 of 2)...

(today's post is a continuation of this one...)

Part of me is interested--and always has been, on a deep level--in spiritual growth. I had been feeling parched in that area, and May Day was coming up. Last year, I had heard that the Apple Tree Morris dance team in Sebastopol danced up the dawn on May Day, but I was unable to go. I was resolved to get myself there this year to experience it. So I posted this status on Facebook:

David Yen is getting up before dawn tomorrow to go to the Morris Dance in Sebastopol. Welcome, dawn!

As intimated in yesterday's post, things with "Bob" (his temporary Living Loud alias) were going down hill like a snowball. Here is the next step:

Bob at 6:38pm April 30
In this crazy town ( your old home town ) they're always dancing and shaking their tootsies over something...usually to celebrate the changing cycle of the inner child. All aboard Sufi dancers !! Need a wake-up call ?

When I got back from the dance, I posted:

David Yen danced the Abrams today.

Among other replies, I received these:

Bob at 10:50am May 1
Ah, Jewish dancing !

Bob at 6:41pm May 1
Do you have to have "personal body lubricant' available when doing this dance ? Most activities in Sebastopol call for it...Some venues even check for it at the door !

This was finally too much for me. This was something I was doing for spiritual development, remember, and Bob had taken it from joking about it, to mocking it, to just being downright offensive. I wrote Bob separately--here is the exchange:

[Me] at 12:18am May 2
hey! thanks for thinking of me, and for all the posts on my status, but can you let me be serious from time to time? i know you are just teasing, but still.... {:o\

Bob at 6:28am May 2
Take care little grasshopper. I will leave you alone. You are where I was 15-20 years ago in life. You too will be amused when you get alittle older and look back at what you now take so seriously. I, too, have my serious side but I keep it off the streets.
Much love. Seriously.
[Bob]

Did you see that? A simple request to tone it down a notch, and I was met with condescension. As if I am going to be exactly where he is now in '15-20' years. As if 'what I take seriously' is merely a distraction, some minor little activity that I will look back at when I am older and smile, thinking how silly it all was. Argh. I decided, 'all right--this is no longer worth my time. I will try to salvage what I can of the relationship and let it go.' Here is what transpired next:

[Me] at 9:59am May 2
thank you, sir. i am quite amused quite frequently, actually--it is just hard to tell sometimes on this little phenomenon when one is being silly, and when one wants to share things that matter. it's hard to type wry sarcasm. ;o)

Bob at 6:43pm May 2
My dear David,
Here's a thought to ponder as the evening sky draws over us all : You have 351 friends listed on FB however you're the only one that wrote to me suggesting my teasing you was.shall we say,insensitive ? Moral...You ARE your best friend !
The interesting thing about FB is it's like a dance floor and most people are wallflowers content to read others correspondence. The dark side of FB, I've found,is it can serve as a dairy where you enter thoughts you really do NOT mean to share with anyone.

I try and write funny things, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes silly but ALWAYS with no intent to injure....

Your 'Friends' all adore you...I'm simply the one that says "The emperor has no clothes!"

In re-reading all this, I started to get a little steamed again. But then I realized that Bob, in his tactless, insensitive way, proved my point perfectly. In his almost-apology, he basically says, 'well, it's your fault for posting something real about yourself, not mine for responding with sarcasm, disrespect and condescension.' I agree with the first half. The social networking site has become a place to stay in touch, but not to be real. It is an electronic version of that exchange where a person says to you, 'how are you?' instead of 'hello', and is shocked when you respond with the truth.

I am not that person.

If you don't have the presence of mind to say hello or render a greeting instead of asking me how I am doing, you will receive my attention, my eye contact, and my truthful response. If I post a status of "what's on my mind" (the Facebook lead-in for the status update box), it will be honest and real. I do not allow myself to wear my heart anywhere but on my own sleeve. This has gotten me into heaps of trouble in my life, and I believe it is chief among the reasons why deep friendships often elude me. But it also allows me to sleep with myself at night with the knowledge that I have been honest and open in a world that refutes those qualities, directly and indirectly, on a daily basis. I mean to share everything about myself, and will continue to do so. There are few who can really handle life on an edgy, loud, full-throttle level. I understand this, and don't think less of anyone for it.

I asked one of my best friends, a person who has been there for me for many years and knows more about me than most, for his honest feedback about me. He told me, among other things, that I have a tendency to dwell on the negative--citing, among other things, the divorce, not getting to spend the time with my kids that I would like, and my financial woes. I was a little put off by this, but realized that he is right, I can get stuck on those topics some times. But the bottom line is that, while I don't want to sound like a broken record, I will not change the way I live to make other people comfortable. It is not healthy for me, and it is not healthy for our society. That, perhaps, is the Quixotic truth of my life.

And that is what makes the blog an important place for me. Here, you can read and judge to whatever extent you like, and neither of us is hurt or made uncomfortable by your reaction. Here, I can be honest, and if you don't like it--if you meant to say 'hi' instead of 'how are you?', you can click your way to freedom instantly, without the awkwardness of finding a conversation breaker so you can go back to *your* life.

Thank you for reading.

With Heart on Sleeve (part 1 of 2)...

In my recent self-examination over To Blog Or Not To Blog, I was also undergoing a similar internal debate about Facebook. The Social Networking Site is a strange environment. On the surface, it is a place to stay connected, and reconnect, with friends who are near and not-so-near. But because it is a quick and informal means of doing so, it can be a trap to remain just that: on the surface. With the advent and growing popularity of Twitter, a quick-update service where you can let people know what you are doing at any minute of the day, casual and meaningless social interaction is becoming as pervasive as the flood of casual and meaningless infotainment.

Some people take this stream of social static way too personally. In my experience on MySpace, I found the social current to be incredibly adolescent. A feature on the site encourages users to select their "top friends" for all to see. On more than one occasion I watched in horror as friends of mine had their feelings hurt--by people who were good friends in real life--over a change in their status on that friend's "top 8" list. There was even an incident in which a girl committed suicide after she was treated badly by others on her MySpace account. I could go on and on about the conduct of the people involved in that situation, but instead I will try to remain on my current train of thought.

I have always tried to remain objective on these sites. Nearly everyone I know has had some sort of emotional fallout to deal with as the result of a misinterpreted e-mail or post or comment that someone else made. The fact is, communicating as we do in a fast-paced, spell-checked environment, it is easy to make mistakes in communication. If I can attempt to type "I'd like you for a manager" and it can come out "I've lived yon, from a manger", I can easily hit send and convey a completely wrong message. And that is just talking grammar, spelling and punctuation, without even getting into the entire mess that is inference and implication. Communicating emotions or emotionally via electrons has vast inherent potential for going awry.

There have been times when I have felt hurt, or frustrated, or even downright angry as a result of something someone has posted. And, to be honest, I have done the same--conveyed things in a way that have hurt people who I never intended to hurt. But then I take a step back and think: who is this person? Are they someone who is adept at communicating in this environment? What might they have been going through when they typed this? You have to consider the source, don't you? I have actually written back in some cases, asking for clarification, and in many cases discovered that my interpretation of the message was way off from the intent, and that has been good for the relationship, rather than the bad that would have resulted from assumption.

In a recent 'status update' on Facebook, I posted the following:

David Yen wants to hear from his inked friends in Sonoma County: how was your experience, who was your artist? bonus points if you send a pic. (i don't know what the points are good for, actually--just looking for some feedback.) going to get some work done soon, and the market is *flooded* with artists....

This, to me, seemed rather clear: I was asking for people who had tattoos to tell of their experience, who their artist was, and asking for an image of the work they had done, if they could get one to me. Here are the responses (names have been changed to protect the guilty):

FF1 at 9:20am April 28
I need to know too... I have been pondering the inky art for some time....

FF2 at 9:31am April 28
I got 'inked' in NYC, watch out it is addicting...I am working on my second!

FF3 at 9:42am April 28 via Facebook Mobile
I did mine at [shop] in Petaluma, but it's so small and simple anyone could do it. One of the supervisers in my office got a neat one that winds up her leg. Her artist was [name] in SR [phone number]

Denise at 9:58am April 28
(Heh, I got so excited I initially posted this as my status.) Here's a start: [link] Click photo for [name]. Then click tattoo images. Scroll next. You'll know it when you see it...

Denise at 10:15am April 28
There's more...just sent you an inbox message. Wee!

FF4 at 10:19am April 28
[same name as in FF3's comment] is actually a very talented artist! [FF4's boyfriend] and I get all of our work done by a good friend at [shop], [name]. You can see some of my tattoos in my pictures.

MF1 at 10:19am April 28
[name] at [shop] does the best work I have ever seen!
[full name, address, phone number]

Sadie at 11:23am April 28
Well, if you were in Michigan, I'd tell you to head ot [shop] or [shop]...but you're not. :) I want to see pics when you're done.

FF5 at 11:44am April 28
I had my first one done on the Bowery in NY -- so you should be fine:)

Blenderat 12:22pm April 28
forget the tats and get tires and registration for you bike!

Bob at 12:22pm April 28
David,David,David....What ARE you thinking ?

Sadie at 12:33pm April 28
[Blender]'s right...more cost effective to forget the tats and get your bike up to code than get nailed with a ticket later.

Bob at 1:59pm April 28
[Blender],[Sadie] & [Bob] are ALL on the same page....except I don't think you need a motorcycle either. Middle age crisis ?

FF6 at 2:58pm April 28
Just don't choose any of these:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/picturegalleries/howaboutthat/5230467/No-Regrets-The-Best-Worst-and-Most-Ridiculous-Tattoos-Ever.html

the Ex at 3:08pm April 28
I'm thinking his middle age crisis is going to last two decades, [Bob]. He might as well enjoy it how he sees fit. : )

Bob at 4:30pm April 28
Uh oh ! A can of worms ! Time for this fellow to zip his lip and "exit stage right!"

the Ex at 6:11pm April 28
No worms, silly. An ages old joke.

Bob at 7:16pm April 28
I am silly, true ! No fool like an old fool, eh ?

Denise at 10:29am April 29
Well, David, I'm glad we could all stay on topic for ya. ;) Happy inking.

[Me] at 10:24am May 4
[FF3], denise, [FF4], [MF1]--thanks for the help. [FF6]--thanks for the laughs! i think i need a copy of that book...

So. That's a total of twenty comments, if you count my response at the end. Of those, almost one fourth actually answered the question, at least partially. Of the rest, there was criticism regarding my life choices, and some even started an entire conversation *about* me without *including* me, on my own page.

I was seriously put off by Sadie's comments (especially in light of others she had posted recently), so I sent a message to her, trying to clear things up. She responded that she had no idea what I was talking about, in a way that suggested to me that she was one of those who type without thinking, and after typing forget all about what they said. A "fire from the hip" sort of person--you all know at least one. I was able to let it all go after that exchange.

Bob, on the other hand, only got worse. Part II tomorrow.

Bad time to die...

It's getting so you can't even be buried in peace in this country, let alone rest in peace.

A few months ago, I first heard of the Westboro Baptist Church--you may have, also. They are a radical religious group that was picketing at a soldier's funeral, carrying signs that the people who shot the soldier were 'sent from God' and that God was punishing the United States for all our transgressions. (Their website is www.godhatesfags.com, if that gives you any indication of how insane these people are.) They actively picket memorial services for children slain by gang violence, soldiers killed in Iraq, and campuses with gay organizations, mis-quoting Scripture and handing out leaflets laden with typos. I could go on and on (indeed, I had made an entire post devoted to the anger I felt at these people), but I would rather not feed into the violence.

A couple of weeks ago, I heard about a woman in the Carolinas who was on her way to Florida when she decided to stop in at a funeral home. She walked right into the funeral hall, started waving a wand and dancing around the deceased (some police reports called it a car antenna) and opened the casket. She laid her hands on the dead man, tapped him on the head with her 'wand', and then threw flowers from on top of the casket at the family before leaving. She was apprehended a few miles away and, when asked why she did it, responded that she "felt that it was the right thing to do at the time." If that isn't crazy enough, there's more--she didn't even know the family. She just stopped in to raise the dead, or send it on its way, or whatever she was doing, and then left. (Original story here and here.)

Just a couple of days ago, there was a similarly odd situation in Arkansas. Some woman from Texas wandered into a funeral carrying a can of beer. When the family asked her to leave the can, she refused. When they asked her to leave the premises, she scratched a man's face and then got into a fight with the man's mother, who allegedly kicked her in the chest. When the police showed up, the beerophile replied that "no backward country cop" was going to take her to jail. Apparently she was wrong about that, because she is now enjoying some time in a state-funded facility. (Original story can be found here.)

So, to all of you--my dear readers and friends: Please don't die right now. It's a mad, mad, world out there.

Inauguration Day...

Okay, I really, really tried hard not to post about this, but I just can't help myself. This is a really long, really opinionated blog, and I'm sure you don't want to read it. But since I can't afford a therapist, I had to put it somewhere. Come back tomorrow for the entertainment. Still here? Okay, then.

If you know me at all, you know I don't care for our current set of world governments. Not just ours, not just "theirs"--all of 'em. Remember when you were little, and you and your three best friends could play all day and have a blast...until the fifth kid came along and everything was suddenly wacky and weird? You had to play round-robin instead of teams. You had to find another piece for the game. You suddenly had to take turns at four-square. There is a reason the phrase 'fifth wheel' works so well to illustrate the concept 'awkward'. I believe that every organizational structure has a lower and upper population limit--an optimal quantity of warm bodies that it will work well for, and anything larger or smaller makes it unwieldy.

This theory has proven itself in my personal and world-observed life time and again: witness the layoffs at O'Reilly I blogged about just the other day. Witness the collapse of Starbucks when it reached critical mass (another wonderful phrase for 'you just got too damn big'). Our government is in the same predicament. We supposedly live in a representative democracy--but in a group of several billion people, how will *my* desires ever be suitably represented? I am not the first to notice that our representatives and congressfolk are for the most part older, richer, and whiter than most of the population. But I digress.

I didn't vote for Obama. I didn't vote for that other guy, either. I voted my belief, not my fear, not my "hope", out of the understanding that, no matter how broken I believe the system to be, the system is still the system. I am not unhappy that Obama won, but he wasn't my first choice. This is important for you to understand, because I don't want a lot of flak about who I support and all that. It is not what this is about.

What this blog is about is the trend I am experiencing among those I hear around me. There is a large group of very vocal people who *did* vote for Obama. And they are driving me to the brink of something violent.

First, there is the sentiment that the voters are super-important because they voted for Obama. I never really cared for sports fans who speak in the third person plural: "We sold Schottenheimer? Oh, MAN!" "We totally got ripped off on that call!" "We've won the series more times than anyone!!!" Um...'we'? Where were you when those athletes had to get pain shots just to keep playing? When they worked seven days a week on the offseason just to stay in good enough shape to compete? When their coaches/trainers/whoever screamed at them for several hours in a row to work harder, when they firmly believed they were doing their best? I am not a fan of taking credit where it is not due. Obama has worked very hard to get where he is. He was elected, sure, but those who elected him are not owed anything by me or anyone else, in my humble opinion. (Are you listening, Oprah?)

Second, there is an inordinate amount of hype surrounding this man, and I think it is (a) ridiculous in its entertainment base, and (b) unfair to Obama. As an example of the first, I cannot tell you since I have already lost count, how many Facebook status updates I saw this morning about Aretha Franklin, Yo-Yo Ma, and Itzhak Perlman performing at the inauguration. It's like the halftime entertainment and commercials at the Super Bowl--hey, if you don't want to watch the game, don't watch it for cryin' out loud. Rent a movie, or go outside, or something.

As for the second...well. Sure, he preached hope and revival and all sorts of repair and healing. But is he the end-all be-all we have all been waiting for? I doubt it. The executive branch is only one part of a triumverate in our country, and the other two are (in the case of the judicial branch) small and confused and (in the case of the legislative branch) owned by lobbyists and not representative of their constituents. Can Obama single handedly save our country? I didn't agree with everything the previous president did, but I don't believe Bush was the Anti-Christ. And I don't believe Obama is the Messiah.

Finally--for now, at least--I am about sick and tired of the anticipation factor in the hype. I have touched on this already, but just to clarify: I have many friends and associates who said, at the turn of the year three weeks ago, 'boy am I glad 2008 is over. 2008 sucked. I am so excited for 2009. It is going to be a GREAT year.' and so on. Guess what? One week later, many of those same people were already sick of 2009. Is it fair to assume that Obama is going to fix everything to everyone's satisfaction? The press has compared him to the famous "chicken in every pot" sentiments voiced by another president we had not too long ago. But can one man really turn around the crap we have gotten ourselves into? It took years and years to get us where we are. Can he do it in four? What if he can't? What will it do to the hyped-up people who think he can? It won't be pretty, I can assure you. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Obama is in a very bad place. Whatever good the man will do--and I believe he will do much good--it cannot possibly measure up to the vision many people have for his time in office.

Mr. President, you have my hopes, condolences, support and best wishes. May you achieve what you wish for.

Election Day...

Pick your favorite, you Americans you:



And that's about all I have to say about that. For today, at least.

How crazy is your state?...

Some folks did a bit of research into how personality traits apply to us americans in different states. Granted, they only sampled 600,000 surveys (which sounds like a lot until you remember that there more than 300 million people in our country--which means about 0.2% of the population was interviewed). But the results, featured in an article in the Wall Street Journal, are still interesting. The findings are ranked a little oddly--they chose to make a low score mean "more", which was a bit of a counterintuitive choice. But they are interesting to read, nonetheless. And they have an interactive graphic! Which means the findings must be true! Order now!

Apparently California is a bit -- but only a bit -- different than I thought it was. According to the keen graphics, Californians are very similar to New Yorkers in extraversion, but are more agreeable. This confirms what I always thought (having lived both ends of the continent): just because someone doesn't maintain your opinion doesn't mean they aren't outgoing. I always found the brashness of New Yorkers preferable to the fake-politicos I ran into all over southern California, but there wasn't a measure of genuinity on this test.

Unless you count "openness", but that one raised the hairs on my neck quite a bit. The definition strongly suggests that "openness" is related to the liberal political bent--but my experience living here is one of persecution. One of my favorite bumper stickers all time is "Liberal: one who believes you should be free to think as they do." But the political discussion is best saved for another blog....

That leaves two traits from the article: "conscientiousness" and "neuroticism" (which means 'one who finds neurotic people hot'). The Californians scored higher on the first--suggesting that all the tree-hugging and recycling might actually be making a difference, which is inspiring. The word "neuroticism" was defined, not as I just wrote, but as "anxiety and stress", which I didn't feel was fair. New York scored WAY high on that one, and California didn't. But here we have people making six figure salaries living in their cars--how is that laid back? Oh, wait--probably they didn't get interviewed by the researchers, what with having no address and all.

In any case, if you are craving a quiet life instead of a loud one, you should probably head to Colorado. Their state score is Extraversion: 28; Agreeableness: 29; Conscientiousness: 15; Neuroticism: 50; Openness: 8. (Wow, that looks like a character profile from some crazy new role playing game.)

"and I didn't even get a kiss"...

My grandfather on my mother's side was a hysterical man. He was one of those people who may not have had a world-class book-learnin' edumacation, but had common sense to the moon and back. And not only that, but he was incredibly funny. His wit was not rapier sharp, it was laser sharp. Whenever someone said, "I got screwed!" he would always follow it up with "Did you at least get a kiss?"

Have you read the news? I used to work for AIG in the 90's, when I lived in New York. It was the first time in my life I earned stock in a company I worked for. Here's a capture of the stock ticker from this morning:



For those of you who don't read these things, I would like to point out that one year ago, the stock was valued at approximately US$70--today it opened at about two bucks. I apparently would not be well-suited for a career in speculative finance.

If you haven't read the article from the Times, I'll like to call your attention to some things I find interesting (as in the Chinese curse, 'may you live in interesting times'). The Federal Reserve Bank bailed out the financial giant in exchange for nearly an 80% share of the company. Now, then--the Fed gets its money from--who? Oh yeah, me. From the taxes I pay for the activities of a government I don't support. (God, I wish I had the balls for a little Civil Disobedience.)

So, if the crash of AIG stock is the rock, here is the hard place: I am paying the Fed to bail out a company that took my money and lost it. If/when the company gets back in the black, it will be due to an involuntary infusion of my money into the company. And who will make the profit? The Fed. Oh, sure, I am going to see a slight increase (again, that's IF the company pulls out of the dive), but multiply that increase by thousands and thousands of shares, and you will see what the Fed will gain out of it.

Don't get what I'm trying to say? (I am not always clear when I'm ranting.) Go read this article--he's a financial writer, and has put it much more eloqently in his review of the situation. Bottom line is, the Fed stands to make a ton of money off of my tax dollars, and they are under no obligation to return the interest like the banks they "support". Will they thank me? Unlikely. Will I get a kiss? I would bet my AIG stock that I won't.

Observances...

It's been seven years since I used a clock radio to wake me up in the morning. On this date in 2001, I had been back in California only three years. I moved home after having worked on Wall Street for five years, only six blocks from the World Trade Center. I had friends who worked in those buildings, and in the area. I used to walk there for lunch twice a week--falafel or a souvlaki from a wonderful little cart run by a man named Sammy.

My alarm went off at 6:00am PDT on this day in 2001, and the very first thing I heard was a female reporter saying, "...Once again, a second plane has just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York. We will keep you updated as the news progresses...." I turned over to face my wife, who I met in New York City. We had spent a decade of our lives there. We both looked at each other. One of us (I forget who) said, "What?"

Seven years have passed. I don't consider myself to be the type to dwell on things--especially death, which is a long conversation we shall have one day. But it wasn't until about three weeks ago that I realized why I have used my cell phone, an old-school alarm clock with those loud bells, and even a kitchen timer as a means to waking up. I considered using a clock radio to wake me up today as a step in the healing process. I could not bring myself to do it, for fear I would wake up to something terrible.

Instead, I went to a local cemetery with my girlfriend (who is from Long Island, NY), and walked the grounds with a lit candle. I found an American Flag flowing gently in the breeze, dawn backlighting the overcast sky, and took a moment to read the plaque dedicating it to veterans who have sacrificed overseas. Silently I mouthed a prayer to them, to the lost of that day seven years ago, and the lost in the current strife across the Atlantic and elsewhere. I left a page I printed out on the ground in front of the flag, with a single candle burning on top of it. It had four pictures of the World Trade Center on it, two of which were pictures of the plaza at street level--pictures you don't see often, pictures of the area I remember most.

Did I heal? A bit more every year. Maybe 2009 is the year I will be able to use a clock radio again.

That sign on the freeway (Part 1 of 4)...

This isn't the exact sign I pass on my morning commute to work--mine has a different image--but the layout and text are the same:



Spark a reaction for you? It certainly did for my eleven year old son. He saw the sign on our way to the theater (sorry for the shameless plug, but only two weeks left!). As we passed it, he grew very concerned and said with a grieving tone in his voice, "That's really sad." Then there was a long pause before he asked, "What is autism?"

We live in a culture of fear. Don't believe me? Turn on the news, or open a periodical. All we see and hear is geared to frighten us--the latest war, the latest criminal activity in our back yard, the latest increase in something scary or decrease in something good. And all stuff we have no control over. What could be more terrifying than an endless litany of life-ending events which pound into our ears and hearts the many tragic, unavoidable, senseless ways we or (preferentially, if you listen to the media) someone we love could suddenly die?

It's even in our e-mail inbox. How many times over the last year alone have you been regaled by some well-meaning associate, friend or family member with a message telling you about the cancer caused by reusing a plastic water bottle? Or the dangers of walking to your car at the mall by yourself? Or the famous I-woke-up-and-those-bastards-stole-my-kidney story? (Watch this if you haven't seen it yet.)

There is so much of this around, it has a name: Scarelore. A subdivision of the definition of "Urban Legend", it looks like this:

"Urban legends are narratives which put our fears and concerns into the form of stories or are tales which we use to confirm the rightness of our world view. As cautionary tales they warn us against engaging in risky behaviors by pointing out what has supposedly happened to others who did what we might be tempted to try. Other legends confirm our belief that it's a big, bad world out there, one awash with crazed killers, lurking terrorists, unscrupulous companies out to make a buck at any cost, and a government that doesn't give a damn." (from Snopes.com, one of the best debunkers on the net.)

Sure, there is a small tagline on the bottom of the billboard that references somewhere you might "learn the signs". But the sign inspires fear and shock to get a reaction out of us: "How sad, Dad. Whatever can we do?!?" Is there no other way to communicate any more? Do we have to perpetuate this in our world, even for (especially for) a cause as good as this one? It makes me sad and frustrated all at the same time.

to be continued...

Are you easily fooled? Take a try at this one...

So, I'm playing Prof. Harold Hill in The Music Man (opens tomorrow, click here for more info). He is the classic swindler/con man type: smooth, slick, charming--and very selfish. He smiles and jokes and charms his way into everyone in town's pockets, until...well, either you know the story, or you don't. I'm not about to print spoilers of my own show here, for pity's sake.

Anyway, being an actor who loves people watching, I am naturally very interested in the subtleties of human nature and expression. I recently stumbled over something I found very challenging and educational. It is on the BBC page about human workings and psychological stuffs. Take the Genuine Smile Test to see if you can tell who is really smiling, and who is faking it. I got 16 out of 20, and learned a bunch of really interesting stuff at the end, to boot.

Now, off to practice my deception a little more in front of the mirror. ;o)

Follow up to the RoPo drama...

Here's some more from the clipper:

~~~~~~~~

A Rohnert Park man found fatally shot in his Harmony Place home Saturday morning died of a single gunshot wound to the upper left chest, according to preliminary autopsy results.

Sonoma County coroner's Sgt. Mitch Mana said toxicology tests on Roger Hilliard are still pending. Mana said Rohnert Park police, not the coroner's office, will investigate whether the death was suicide or a homicide.

Rohnert Park Department of Public Safety officers went to a residence at 4555 Harmony Place around 1:35 a.m. Saturday regarding a domestic violence call. Hilliard, 71, reportedly was alone in the house, was possibly armed with a handgun and a shot had been fired, police said.

The Sonoma County Sheriff's Department's SWAT unit and bomb squad also responded and used a robot to search the inside of the residence, police said. Hilliard was located and pronounced dead at the scene.

~~~~~~~~

And here's another link.

Some friends have commented on how the police "mishandled" the situation. I was thinking about it, and it occurred to me that it probably went down like so: someone calls the police to report a domestic disturbance, with shot(s) fired. The police show up, no one answers when they go to the door. The options are to storm the house ala movies/TV, or be safe and actually use all that special crap we as taxpayers have been "investing" in. We *have* a SWAT team and a bomb squad; why not play it safe and send them in?

Of course, the dispatchers apparently did not get that level of training--having us just run from home with no explanation and no place to go was not really the best option, either. There is a fire department just three blocks from my house--they could have pulled the trucks out and let us all hang out there until it was resolved, as they would (hopefully) have done if there was a big emergency. So I wasn't very impressed with the way that side of things was handled. But tactics-wise, I was okay with the other part.

Thanks for all your support and concern!

A little weird...

Preface/rant: I have always had this huge pet peeve about "graduation" ceremonies for K-7th grade. It seems like such a way to "level" the playing ground--in the wrong way. By making every year "special", they have managed to make no year special. There is no sense of accomplishment in moving from grade 5 to 6 if that "accomplishment" has been ballyhooed every year since preschool. It would be like having your birthday every month--you would just get tired of it. Except that moving from one grade to another is actually an accomplishment. Having a birthday is managing to survive for another year. (Which, I guess I would have to concede *is* an accomplishment for some of us.)

I have a similar (same?) beef about every single kid in a league getting a "participant" trophy. What is the point? I mean, I understand we are trying to encourage participation, but aren't we devaluing the hard work and victory of accomplishing something (i.e., the championship)? What sort of society are we setting ourselves up for? I can tell you my prediction, because it's already showing: a society of people who can accomplish much, but don't see the point. Sad. And very, very scary. [end preface/rant]

Anyhoo, today was Thing 1's last day in grammar school. EEEEEK! It was a "promotion" ceremony, which I guess was a small victory. It was also weird because I can't believe he is that old. I was uneasy, but at the same time very, very proud: among other things, he received the presidential award for academic achievment (there were only ten kids in the school who did well enough to get it). He was nervous and very excited, and I was really happy to see him up there. Next year he starts middle school.

EEEEEK again.

It's a good thing...

My schedule for Oz listed tonight as a commitment from 6-10 at "The Redwoods". Having not done a show with the Mountain Play before, and having done several promo-type appearances with them already this season, I assumed this was going to be something much like. Wrong. When I found out, I teared up a bit.

Every season, the Mountain Play puts on a "concert version" of the show at a care facility in Mill Valley. No costumes (just our official tee shirts), no lines, just the songs. The show is for the benefit of those previous season subscribers who are no longer physically able to go up the mountain to see it. I know, right? Someone is doing something good and kind and giving back. I am proud to be part of it.