Category Society

Call It What You Will

Michael Leave a comment

I read an article in the paper last week that would have made go “Hmm” had I not been struck speechless, or even hmmless. The U. S. Department of Justice will no longer refer to people who have completed sentencing and released from prison as a “felon” or “convict.” Instead the terms “person who committed a crime” or “individual who was incarcerated.” will be used. The announcement included the comment that the newly forbidden words are disparaging. Hmm, we are talking about convicted felons – I’m sorry, I mean we are talking about people who committed crimes, aren’t we?

I have to expand my daily reading to include papers from around the world. I see the headlines and whatever American editors determine are newsworthy enough for U.S. media to re-report, but what might I be missing. Is the appellation of formerly incarcerated individuals high on justice departments’ priority lists worldwide?

If it catches on it will be the biggest “they said” since “they said” someone is a person of interest when the police want to talk to said someone about a crime and that it has nothing to do with being interested in someone. This person is not to be confused with a suspect whom police would want to talk to about a crime or a material witness who is presumed to have information about a crime. It seems that one shouldn’t call a suspect a suspect until all suspicion is removed in the favor of certainty less the person of interest is disparaged in the event some doubt remains.

It all reminds me of another article I saw a while ago about some organization now using the term “companion” rather than “mistress” when referring to a prominent person’s person of interest.  Now that would be disparaging. Not being a companion, nor even a mistress. Being said to hang around with someone who passes for prominent. Now that may be most disparaging.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

The Sporting Life

Michael Leave a comment

Life is made of moments. There are the “aha!” moments,” the “you wouldn’t trade for anything” moments, the outright epiphanies. And then there are the things that make you go “really?”

Saturday evening I was out shopping and the couple in the check-out line in front of me was in full on, game day football garb. Replica jerseys of two of the biggest names in local pro football team history, team hats, scarf around her neck, logo emblazoned leather jacket for him, right down to the NFL licensed wristwatch. Their cart held beer, mixers, pretzels, crackers and cheese platter, and a custom made football shaped chocolate chip cookie. These guys were set for some serious football watching.

The problem with this picture is that it is the end of April. Football is as far out of season as deer hunting. The local hockey team is in the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs. The local baseball team was that day on a six game winning streak. The city’s annual marathon was due to step off the following morning. Basketball, golf, soccer, and lacrosse were going strong. Football?

I wasn’t the only one wondering. The clerk at the cash register noticed it also. “You guys are set for a party.”

“Yep,” football man fan replied. “A draft party.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I heard the..”

“Don’t say it! We recorded the draft and we’re watching it tonight. All we need now is to make it home without hearing any about it and we can enjoy the whole thing at one time.”

Now, the NFL draft was just winding up its third and final day at the time this conversation was going on. I know I’m not the world’s biggest fan and even I have at times not wanted to be made aware of the result of a particular event because I was recording it for later viewing. The women curling finals from the 2014 Winter Olympics comes to mind. And this part of God’s green earth is such a football fanatic’s fantasy to the point that a cable network has presented a series about the excesses that pass for local little league football. But I have never encountered a devotee so zealous that taping the sport’s entry draft qualifies as appropriate accompaniment to cheese and crackers.

They say it takes all kinds. I’m certainly thankful of that. Otherwise how would I be able to carry on the fine tradition of blogging about the real reality that is out there for five years now. Let’s keep those kinds coming. Go reality! Go team!

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

The Not Quite So Bad Smelling Pot

Michael Leave a comment

My last post was the bad side of a potpourri of encounters at the local retailers. This post is the better smelling side of that pot. It’s still a bit rotten but it has a less pungent odor about it.

On top of this list of things that don’t smell quite right (or if you prefer, things that make you go hmm) are shopping carts. Shopping carts themselves are not new fodder for the RRSB. Type “shopping cart” into my search bar and you can relive tales of shoppers with carts, carts without shoppers, crazy people with carts and crazy carts out to maim me. (My personal favorite that one. Relive it specifically at “Handicap Hate Crime,” (June 19, 2014)). But what put shopping carts on this particular list is that they officially are now everywhere, and some of it is intentional.

An intentional, yet questionable placement of shopping carts is now at the greeting card store. I’m ambivalent about greeting cards. I like them well enough. I like the idea of sending and getting real mail even if some far afield professional has written the sentiment. They fill a void that mere mortals like me could not and I for one feel accomplished just putting my name after somebody else’s perfectly chosen words. But I’m not so enamored with greeting cards that I feel the need to greet every occasion with a professional acknowledgement. Apparently the greeting card store people feel differently. So differently that they believe so many people will be buying so many of their cards in a single transaction that they have taken the step to make one’s shopping experience less physically exhausting and are now providing shopping cards in which to haul about your selection of selections as you go about selecting their cards. It is clearly just another overstated case of exaggerated hyperbole. Indubitably.

On the other hand, at stores where shopping with carts is advisable and often indeed a necessity, we are now faced with a decision as we pass through the doors that open automatically (and just in case you were unsure of that they are clearly so labeled but that’s a post for a different day). Of course I am talking about our basic supermarkets. At my closest go-to store the vestibule has 6 differently sized wheeled carts (one motorized) and two carry basket variants. For some reason the sporty compact models seem to be the most popular and never about when I need to pick up a dozen or so articles. Thus I am forced to wobble about poorly balanced (as if I wasn’t to be begin with) with a too small basket held in the crook of my arm or to reach deep into the void at the checkout line as I rummage for those 12 items in the bottom of the cart sized suitably to carry a month’s worth of groceries for a family of 4 (plus 2 pets). Where are all the cute little carts? They are being wheeled about by the family of four (pets safely locked in the over-sized SUV idling at the end of parking row 3) sagging under the weight of the soon to be purchased vittles and the pair of matching mini-monsters (aka 3 year olds who prefer to be at home in bed). It is clearly a case of bad choices. Several.

The last petal in our pot comes at the consideration of the local home improvement store. Today my needs that can be satisfied at a lumber, hardware, plumbing, electrical, lighting, appliance, paint, paper, carpet, and appliance store and nursery (the plant version, not the refuge for 3 year olds taking a break from mom and dad) can be met at that very nursery (the plant version). My biggest takeaways from the lawn and garden department begin at the garden half and end on my patio in the forms of plants, pots, and potting soil. Plants or seeds that will someday grow up to be young strapping plants and pots with a simple stand for the pots after the plants have been therein potted are light enough that a supermarket style shopping cart handles them with ease. But then there is that bag of potting soil. First I shouldn’t be lifting anything heavier than a five pound bag of donut holes and second I don’t want to be lifting anything heavier than a five pound bag of donut wholes. A flat bed cart that I can drag the bag of soil onto from the stack o’ bags would be ideal. But no, even though there is an entire store of wood, concrete, and refrigerator-freezers that have their own special carts, in the garden center you have only the extra-large version of the supermarket shopping cart that just ate my twelve items (no waiting) in the preceding paragraph.  It is clearly a choice of too many choices inside and not enough outside. By design.

At here you have it, today’s mélange just this side of rotten.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

The Rotten Pot

Michael Leave a comment

The potpourri – a quite lovely arrangement of highly scented dried flowers used to decorate and perfume.  Or collection of songs or poems, or a mélange of thoughts, ideas, or fact.  Whatever you want to make of it, or make it from, it is a beautiful order of otherwise unrelated things. In fact, I have often used it in post titles when I have too little of any one thing rummaging around in my head to add up to a couple hundred words of lucid thinking thus keeping that post from getting too ugly. Until now.

Now we have the not so flattering side of the potpourri – it’s otherwise disagreeable origin. From seventeenth century French it is literally the “rotten pot.” And today is a collection of the rotten side of reality that stuck its ugly face in my path this week.

The major ingredient in this pot is “some people’s children.” Not once, not twice, but three times just since Sunday did I get to witness not one, not two, but three little monsters disturbing the peace and leaving it in pieces.

There was the 3 or 4 year old girl (or boy, at that age does it matter) who made her own potpourri while seated in a shopping cart and systematically pulled petal after petal from the bouquet of flowers I suppose that her mother left with her to keep her (the child) occupied while she (the mother) gave her order to the deli counter clerk (and who couldn’t contain herself (the clerk) and pointed out the impromptu de-blooming). And then there was the 6 or 7 year old girl who at the local party store walked through a full aisle of piñata, punching one after the other until she got bored with that, realized that mom was not within arm’s reach, and wailed at the approximate pitch and volume of an ambulance siren.

But the killer (could we wish) was the around six-ish boy (I think) who stood (yes stood!) on the conveyor belt at the supermarket checkout line while he (I think) systematically threw every item in the impulse rack above the belt onto the belt to his (hers?) mother’s chorus of “Please get back in the cart, get in the cart, get back in the cart, I’m telling you get back in the cart, this is the last time now get back in the cart, get in the cart, get in the cart.” When the cashier had the nerve to say “It’s all right,” I couldn’t just stand there idly at the next check-out line. I said “No, it’s not alright. It’s rude and disgusting. And it’s why I’m in this line because I’m certainly not putting my food on that belt and if I were you (now directed to the cashier) I’d have someone get over there and clean that up.” And I actually felt good about myself having said something until the mother said, “Like that belt was any too clean before.”

And that was my mélange of otherwise unrelated urges to kill.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Filled with Passion

Michael Leave a comment

I had a post all written, proofed, rewritten, mulled over, written again, and ready to upload when I stopped there and walked away from the computer. Something wasn’t just right with it and a wait of a while or so wouldn’t hurt it any.

So I stopped, had a late Sunday dinner, read a bit, turned on the TV, and started watching the musical Passion on Fox. And then I realized what was wrong with my post. It sucked. It was trivial, dull, and rambling. Not much different from most of my posts but it didn’t belong here today.

See, this all started in my mind Saturday evening at the Palm Sunday vigil. Last year I never got to do any of my Easter traditions. I was in the hospital through the whole of the Easter season. So for me there was no Ash Wednesday, no Lent, no Palm Sunday, no Holy Thursday, Good Friday, or Easter Vigil. And no Easter. Oh they happened but I hardly took part in any of them. Even though for me I actually looked forward to the Easter holy days they never held the big recognizable traditions of say Christmas. Yet without Easter we’d not have Christmas.

Later on Saturday night I wondered if I could turn the beginning of Holy Week into a blog post. After all, Easter is as universal as Christmas. Nobody minds if anybody clogs up the blogways with Christmas stories. Easter should get just as much play. But, I couldn’t come up with an angle. So by Sunday afternoon I was penning several hundred words on why it was snowing on the first day of Spring. I’m nothing if not unoriginal.

Then after having written and proofed and mulled and written again, I hesitated. Walked away. Let it sit. And was glad I did.

I don’t know that I planned on watching the Passion. I don’t think I actually planned on watching anything at all. As I scrolled through the guide it seemed like if nothing else it would be entertaining and it hadn’t started yet – always a plus for me when I watch a program. So I sat back, tuned in, and became amazed.

Nobody needs to be reminded of the Passion. It might be the most told story in the world. It touches almost every culture and if you don’t know the story you probably know most parts of it and didn’t know they came from the Passion. From the four gospels to thousands of articles, books, symphonies, movies, art, and opera, the Passion has been written, sung, played, and painted. But whoever put together Fox’s offering did something nobody else had. They started with pieces that weren’t ever meant to be part of the story. And from that they created a powerful story, perhaps the greatest story ever told. Or at least this year.

None of the music was written for this production. The locations weren’t selected because of their ability to mimic first century Jerusalem. The crowd looked like they wanted to be there. Nothing like any traditional Passion play. And they hit it.

If you didn’t see it, go find it and watch it. I couldn’t come up with the right angle but I didn’t have to. It was already out there.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

You think your commute is challenging

Michael Leave a comment

The weather forecasters are saying it will be chilly this weekend, somewhere between 25 and 30 degrees colder than the first half of this week and only 8 degrees above freezing during the daytime. That will probably be a better time to take the little car out for a spin than in clear, 70 degree, sunshiney weather.

If you’ve been reading for a while you know I have a little red convertible that gets about as much use as you would imagine in an area where the average temperature is 52 degrees F and it rains or snows almost 150 days a year. But when the sun comes out the top goes down and I understand the true meaning of the phrase “worth the wait.” Right up until some guy with more testosterone than brains spots me.

I went out in the middle of the day when the real men with huge pick-up trucks riding on 28 inch wheels with massive brush guards, multiple running lights, and chrome steps to get into the cab should have been at work doing something involving torches and welders’ masks and comparing tattoos. But no, there was one about ¾ mile behind me when I slipped onto the onramp of the local expressway. I heard him, or rather his mufflerless behemoth, snarling up behind me. He closed that ¾ mile before I made it all the way to the end of the acceleration ramp and in his desire to make certain I knew he had more horsepower at his disposal than I did, he passed me on the single lane ramp and launched himself onto the highway mainline. Right in front of another mini-monster truck a few miles per hour above the speed limit. It was a spectacular sight in my rear view mirror. You could almost see their premiums going up.

I pulled onto the shoulder and waited until I saw that both of the not quite matured miscreants were moving about on their own power and then eased back into traffic and continued on my spring shake-out tour. You would think I’d have been shocked at the carnage (or trucknage if you prefer) and I was the first time or two such craziness happened. Unfortunately this goes on every year when I, and presumably everyone else with a weekend roadster, first hit the road.

In a month or so the craziness will wane perhaps because the crazy mongers become used to seeing us on the road again or perhaps because they run out of clean underwear.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

(Yes, I know this is St. Patrick’s Day and I didn’t say anything about that in my post. Monday was Pi Day and I didn’t bring that up then either. I’m not totally predictable.) (Am I?)

 

Who Paid You Today?

Michael Leave a comment

I was reading about the top employers in each state – because I have that kind of time. A pattern showed up and to be honest, I’m not sure if it’s a disturbing pattern or patently disturbing.

Two are two business types that are the dominant employers in these United States. Those are universities and their affiliated healthcare systems, and Wal-Mart. You say you’re sick of hearing about Wal-Mart. That’s ok because there are plenty of hospitals out there to take care of that for you.

Where are the entrepreneurs who are not relying on your health insurance or your paycheck from those relying on your health insurance?  There are in the far reaches of the country. In Alaska, the Anchorage Airport ranks number one. It is also number one in the world for floatplanes. Pratt and Whitney dominates employment in Connecticut. That’s where they make airplane jet engines that all of the Boeing employees use to make it the top employer in Washington. Maine’s biggest human resourcer is the Hannaford supermarket chain. Food is also big in New Jersey where the ShopRite subsidiary Wakefern Food Corp. hires more Jersey boys and girls than any other in the state. Nevada has the country’s biggest share of gambling revenue and the MGM Grand hires the most employees in that state.

In a few states health care manages to lead employment figures without a university feeding their researchers. Those are Delaware, Rhode Island, Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Colorado, and Utah.  Kansas, Hawaii, Wisconsin, Nebraska, and New York have university systems without affiliated hospitals.  Those guys should get together or risk going through the record books with asterisks next to them.

Clearly I have too much time on my hands.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Different Potpourri du Different Jour

Michael Leave a comment

Yesterday completed the year-long fundraising effort by Penn State’s Pan-Hellenic Council to benefit the Four Diamonds Fund at Hershey Medical Center children’s cancer unit – or more lovingly known by the PSU crowd as “Thon.” The pinnacle event is the weekend long dance marathon with the fundraising reveal wrapping up the festivities. This year Thon raised over $9.77 million dollars for the charity, still the world’s largest student run philanthropy. Thon typically runs on about a 4% administrative cost. That means that 96 cents of each one of those dollars goes to the charity. Compare this to the American Cancer Society, no slouch in fund-raising themselves, who manage to work on about 84% costs netting their charity efforts 16 cents for each dollar raised. It would do us well to remember that the student can sometimes be the teacher.

I was standing in the super market line and saw this blurb on one of the magazines that festoon the check-out lines. “Lose weight and gain height with new diet!” It went on to claim one could lose 5 pounds in weight and gain 2 inches in height in the first week. It could just be me but I’m suspecting some monkey business with those figures. I think it is quite possible to lose 5 pounds in a week but I can’t figure out any diet that adds heights, unless it’s to eat anything but eat it while being stretched on a rack.

Speaking of diets, a different cover screamed at me that I could lose weight just by cutting out sugar. I’ll remember that while I’m gorging on french fries and cole slaw while scarfing up double bacon cheeseburgers and washing it all down with several bottles of beer. If figure if I do that 4 or 5 times a week I can positively disappear by the end of next month.

Speaking of french fries, shouldn’t it really be frenched fries referring to manner in which they are cut. What became of the “ed?” I wonder if that was what the potato lost when it eliminated sugar from its diet.

And speaking of nothing that we’ve already spoken of, Spring is really around the corner. It was a balmy(!) 55 degrees this afternoon and I spotted my first non-fat guy wearing shorts. There is no surer sign that spring is here.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Potpourri du Jour

Michael 1 Comment

I had a heck of a time figuring out what to write for today’s post. Not because the possibilities were endless, let me tell you. In truth, they were somewhat limited but terribly diverse.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, or as some people prefer, St. Valentine’s Day. One would think referring to the Saint (or Saints if you wish since there were actually three of them) gives the holiday more credence. This is both true and misleading. The Roman Catholic Church removed St. Valentine Day from its calendar in 1969. They are still Saints, just not with a specific feast day. Thus yesterday officially was Valentine’s Day.

The fact that those guys were real people who were canonized has made Valentine’s Day a holiday non-grata in some parts of the world whatever you want to call it. There are places where Christian traditions are seen as contrary to other religions and religious traditions.  You’d also think that the church and state separatist nuts in the U.S. would also prefer plain Valentine’s Day to St. Valentine’s Day and perhaps they do because you never hear anything about the ACLU suing anybody over giving away cards and chocolate without a Saint being involved. Then again they seem to get just as drunk as every else on St. Patrick’s Day so who knows what they think.

Another one of potential topics for today is the abrupt end of commercialism of holidays including Valentine’s Day. We might have a 10 or 12 week marketing run-up to the holiday but once it gets here, it’s done for. Just a day before television, radio, print, and electronic ads touted candies, flowers, fruit, jewelry, even pizza for the one you love. Today those same ad spots were pushing life insurance, disposable diapers, tires, and toilet cleaners.  After noon you couldn’t even find a decent rom-com without downloading it from a ppv service. Where did the love go?

Another possible topic for today’s post is another American holiday that isn’t – Presidents’ Day. Officially today is Washington’s Birthday. Even though was have a firm date for George’s birth, February 22, we don’t celebrate it then because the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1968 pushed four federal holidays (Washington’s Birthday, Memorial Day, Columbus Day, and Veterans’ Day) from their fixed day designations to specific Mondays thus ensuring at least 4 three day weekends for federal workers. (Which calls to mind, how many people work for the federal government? About half of them. Ha, ha, ha! Geez, I crack myself up!)

Anyway, when that happened although nobody of any importance, certainly nobody in Congress, changed anything else about Washington’s Birthday. Still, all of a sudden it became Presidents’ Day. Some people claimed it was the perfect time to recognize the contributions of all of the U. S. Presidents and their accomplishments. If you ask me, I think the only President we ever had who was really cognizant of his responsibility to the country and its citizens was George Washington. Everyone who came after has been less respectful than the one before until we have now reached the pinnacle of disrespect by being given the choice between one to the current crop of Democrat idiots versus one of the current crop of Republican idiots. And they expect us to make that choice without throwing up all over the ballot.

Now that I’ve given this all some thought I don’t think any of these are worth the effort. Good thing today’s culture makes disdain so effortless.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

One For The Ages

Michael Leave a comment

Yesterday was a big day in the sports world. In America’s sports world. They played a football game. There were no unsportsmanlike conduct penalties, nobody left the game concussed, no spectator was arrested, nobody was caught cheating, and no player was charged with abuse. It was a remarkable game. We’re talking about Puppy Bowl XII!

For the past several years the Puppy Bowl has been the top rated non-sports broadcast on Super Bowl Sunday. (Super Bowl Sunday – I wonder how many people say that with as much, or even more, reverence as Easter Sunday.)

Back to the Puppy Bowl. What started as a diversion to keep the little ones out of the big ones hair when prepping for THE big game has now become an event of its own. Last year, over 10.4 million people watched Puppy Bowl XI. Over 110 million folk watched last year’s Super Bowl but that’s still a bunch of people, not much less than how many watch Big Bang Theory every week, watching what is basically a two hour infomercial for adopting rescue animals.

I think it’s become successful because it’s so cute. I bet more people want to go out an adopt a pet after seeing the Puppy Bowl than after seeing one of those depressing humane society ads. Who wouldn’t want a new best friend who loves running around in packs, playing with toys, and giving big sloppy kisses and just asks for a daily bowl of kibble in return? (Yes, there is a catch but that’s an easy enough one to deal with.)

Now, about that other game that was played yesterday, can’t we just have the commercials without all that other hoopla going on?

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?