Category Archives: Essays

September 23, 2012 · 9:30 PM

Hate Masters

I just finished watching Mitt Romney’s interview with Scott Pelley on 60 Minutes and didn’t know whether to laugh or yell at Romney’s claim that President Obama has been unwilling to work with Republicans during his time in the Oval Office.  Obama has done just about everything a biracial man can do to please a bunch of crusty old White men short of tap-dancing and calling them “Master.”  If anything, Obama has been too conciliatory these past three years.  But, the Republicans still don’t appreciate it.  Of course, if he showed more backbone and got ugly with their sorry asses, they’d be just as hateful towards him.  Either way, he can’t win.

I’ve never seen so much disrespect heaped upon a president than has been thrown at Obama.  From the “birther” crowd (a pack of idiot assholes) to the Tea Party gang (neo-Nazis disguised as suburbanites) to Governor Jan Brewer sticking her finger in Obama’s face as soon as he got off the plane (I wanted to break than thing off and stuff it down her throat, but that would have ended her sex life).  I thought Bill Clinton suffered plenty of disrespect from his Republican counterparts, especially with the self-righteous impeachment.  But, that’s nothing compared to the crap Obama has endured.

The Republicans keep blaming Obama for the still-stagnant economy.  Never mind that the GOP helped create the worst financial crisis in nearly eight decades with the help of the lame-brained George W. Bush.  Their intense deregulation led to the housing and banking calamities.  This was actually worst than the 1990’s-era savings and loan mess, which – in case anyone forgot – was brought on by the 1982 Banking Deregulation Act; a brain child of that other Republican moron, Ronald Reagan.  Republicans keep thinking if you just let businesses do whatever they want, the economy will function perfectly.  They haven’t figured out yet that’s never worked.  It’d be easy to call them idiots, but I think they’re just greedy bastards.  Perhaps they know deregulation doesn’t work so well, but don’t care because the hogs at the helm of the big corporations will get richer regardless of what happens.  They just hope average people stay stupid enough not to be able to recognize it.

Moreover, the Republicans exacerbated the economic mess with two unfunded wars.  Here’s where they get the ignorant masses riled up; the people who keep putting them into office.  The GOP stalwarts wrap themselves in the American flag and cry freedom.  Anyone with half a brain, however, realizes that the Iraq War was based on lies; lies perpetuated by a pack of scoundrels who weren’t so eager to answer their own country’s call to arms in their youth.  I watched Condoleezza Rice’s speech at the Republican National Convention; a moving and emotional sermon where she talked of growing up a colored girl in the Deep South.  And, I realized she was one of the architects of the Iraq War; one of the scumbags who hoodwinked both the country and the United Nations into believing that Iraq had yellow-cake uranium, or some other such dastardly concoction, and plans to destroy life as we know it.  She, like Ann Romney, stood up there at the podium in her designer dress and extolled the virtues of being an American.  And, I thought of the nephew of a friend of mine who served in the Marines in both Iraq and Afghanistan and is now back home, living with his single mother and going to school on the GI Bill.  He told me at a Christmas party his mother held in 2010 – just months after he left the Marines – that he’d lost some friends in both wars.  He didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so I didn’t press him on the details.  But, I could tell it hurt him.  I thanked him profusely for his service and gave him a good old fashioned bear hug.  He deserved that much.  He and other military veterans deserve a lot more.

All of us hard-working, law-abiding, tax-paying citizens deserve a lot more from our elected officials than the perpetual sludge fest known as the 2012 presidential race.  So, what is Obama to do in the face of this morass?  I suppose he could get meaner.  But then, he’d be viewed as an uppity Negro by the Republican leadership.  Yes, I feel race still plays a part in this discussion because if Obama was a full-blooded White man, he probably wouldn’t be subjected to this level of hate.  He could still try to compromise.  But then, he’d be seen as a weakling not worthy of the office of the president.  Again, he can’t win – not in this political climate.

Americans keep talking about changing the way Washington works.  Obviously, it’s not working now!  But, it’s not Washington itself; it’s the people, or rather our elected officials.  They just won’t work together anymore.  Everyone complains about that great partisan divide, but who’s going to do something about it?  Somebody needs to take the politics out of Washington and put back in public service.  We all deserve that much from the people who represent us.

Leave a comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as ,

September 20, 2012 · 8:12 PM

Silver Spoons and Golden Butt Plugs

While George W. Bush may have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth – to paraphrase the late great Ann Richards – Mitt Romney was born with a golden plug up his ass.  In case you just woke up from a coma or have been spending too much time watching the Kardashian clowns, you know that Romney has been busted disrespecting nearly half the American population.  During a private fund raiser at the home of a wealthy Florida benefactor this past May, Romney said, “There are 47 percent of the people who will vote for the president no matter what.”

Someone in the crowd surreptitiously videotaped Romney’s speech, but only now has it come to light.  Gosh, if a rich White guy isn’t safe saying whatever he wants in the home of an affluent supporter, where can he be safe?  I mean, what a cruel world!

In one respect, Romney is correct: some people will vote for Obama no matter what.  And, some people will vote for Romney regardless of what he says or does.  In either case, they have that right.  That’s the beauty of a truly democratic society; people can vote for whichever politician they choose and not feel compelled to explain it to anyone.

But, once again, Romney proves just how far removed he is from American reality.  While he and his family lounge on their luxury yacht that flies the Grand Cayman flag, the average U.S. citizen – that loathsome “47 percent” – continues to struggle with joblessness, low wages and / or high medical costs.  He seems to have the same understanding of what us lowly common folk experience every day as – well – as the Kardashians.  I guess when you live in an ivory tower, everything on the outside looks like a garbage landfill.

That “47 percent” comprises not just nearly half the American population, they include many folks who vote Republican.  They’re retirees who paid plenty of taxes during their working lives and military veterans whose pay is tax exempt.  Since Mitt Romney – like George W. Bush and Dick Cheney – dodged the draft during the Vietnam War and Ann Romney has never worked a day in her life, neither can relate to many souls in that “47 percent.”

But, that “47 percent” includes people like me who have struggled to find work in a fragile economy brought on by conservative Republican financial incompetence and my parents who – between them – have put in a century’s worth of work and rely upon Social Security and Medicare just to stay alive.  None of us has a million dollar trust fund.  We didn’t get a $77,000 tax credit like Ann Romney’s dressage horse.  But, we don’t ask for that either.  We don’t need millions of dollars to be happy.  No one really does.  Anyone who feels they need a million dollar salary just to get by is an idiot.

But, since my parents and I, along with millions of other Americans, have worked hard all our lives and done what was expected of decent, law-abiding citizens, we deserve more respect than Romney seems able – or willing – to dish out.  That he made those comments during a meeting staged by a wealthy donor and where attendees paid $50,000 just to be able to walk in the front door shows where his interests lie.  Of course, big political contests require big monetary donations – both Republican and Democrat.

In 1992, then Governor Bill Clinton appeared at a “town hall” type forum where a woman asked him if he knew the cost of certain basic essentials like a loaf of bread and a gallon of gas.  Clinton answered accurately and without hesitation.  It was clear he could relate to the average American.  But, his prime opponent, President George H.W. Bush, couldn’t.  That seems to be an attribute of most politicians and – from my independent perspective – an affliction of the vast majority of Republican politicians.

So, here’s a piece of uninvited advice to Mitt Romney from a middle class voter and tax-paying citizen: pull that golden plug out of your ass and stick it in your mouth.  Have your wife and her horse help you if it’s wedged in there too tight.  All that shit in unpaid taxes has backed up into your brain and obviously has no place to go.  Now, happy campaigning!

Image.

1 Comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as ,

September 16, 2012 · 8:41 PM

Six Years and That’s It!

There’s an old saying in Washington, D.C., that presidents spend their first four years in the Oval Office running for reelection and the second four building their legacy.  The ratification of the 22nd Amendment to the U.S. Constitution in 1951 limits the president to two four-year terms.  Its genesis was the tenure of Franklin D. Roosevelt who won a remarkable four consecutive elections and, as the beleaguered Archie Bunker once said, “[held] onto the job like the Pope.”

Currently, there are twenty-seven amendments to the U.S. Constitution; the last one, proposed in 1789 and not ratified until 1992, preventing laws affecting Congressional salary from taking effect until the beginning of the next session of Congress.

After struggling to watch and digest both the Republican and Democratic National Conventions, I propose a twenty-ninth amendment: a U.S. president’s term shall be limited to one six-year stint.  Six years and that’s it!  You’re done; finished; complete.  You can start writing your biography and building your library.  If it’s good enough for México, it’s good enough for the United States.

Every incumbent president since Richard Nixon has spent way too much time and energy during their fourth full year in office hoping to keep the position.  Ronald Reagan almost dropped dead during his reelection campaign because he was so old and feeble, and apparently Bill Clinton got so sexually frustrated during his that he ended up feeding an intern the hard way.  Okay, those are just my opinions, but seriously folks!  As the symbolic leader of the free world, in a nation with the oldest constitution on Earth, our president needs to be focused on the tasks at hand.

President Obama, for example, keeps trying to explain why the U.S. economy is still so bad, while still trying to fix it.  He’s squeezing campaign stops in between deciding whether to drop a bomb on Syria, or send in the Marines.  If we had that one six-year term deal in effect and Obama had been elected, say in 2006, he’d already be scheduling sessions with his ghost writer and consulting with the Chinese architects for his library in downtown Chicago.  Then, he could say to hell with it and drop that bomb on Syria and not worry if it’s going to piss off the coveted Syrian-American vote.

If anything, our presidents won’t leave office looking so old and frazzled.  They could actually get more sleep during that fourth year in office because they won’t be up for reelection.  They could still build a grand legacy during six whole years in office.  Of course, they usually spend the remainder of their lives trying to defend it.

I’m not a political scientist, or even a journalist.  I’m just an average American citizen who’s grown tired of the sludge fests that have accompanied our national elections over the past twenty years or so.  But, I’d still like to get some feedback on this proposal.  What do you think?

Leave a comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as , ,

August 18, 2012 · 11:58 PM

Just Bend Over and Pretend It Doesn’t Hurt

On Friday, the 17th, I lost my contract job with an IT firm.  Friday also marked one month since I started.  It was supposed to be a 6-month gig.  Now, it’s gone.

They hired me to be a technical writer and editor.  But, it turns out they wanted someone with a strong software development background.  Actually, they’d prefer to get an individual who is both a software developer and a technical writer.  They’d have better luck finding a black unicorn.

At least this job lasted one whole month.  In July of 2011, I landed a 90-day contract technical writing job that lasted all of 3 weeks.  The client pulled it because they weren’t getting the anticipated work from their vendor.  And, I never again heard from the recruiter who got me that job in the first place.  They just dropped me; the way a vulture abandons a cow carcass once they’re through picking over it.  This is starting to give me a complex.

I sort of saw this coming; the way people on Japan’s northeastern coastline saw that tsunami coming after the devastating earthquake struck the region in March of last year.  I know that’s a bit dramatic – almost an unfair and disrespectful comparison – but that’s how I felt.  It was a slow-moving disaster; gradually creeping towards me with no way to stop it.

It had taken me almost a year to find this job.  So, here I am – in the job market again.  As I’ve stated before, contract work seems to be the popular trend in business these days.  Most of the people at that IT firm were contract.  Less than a third, I believe, were full-time employees.  There were a lot of foreigners, too; people mostly from India, but also Asia.  Wait a minute!  Aren’t companies shipping these jobs over there?  There was even one man from México who earned his U.S. citizenship on the 13th, a woman from Romania and another woman from France.  I feel I should reinvent myself as a refugee from Nicaragua and somehow get an H1 Visa.  I might stand a better chance.

I’m just not used to this contract stuff.  A contract worker is a glorified temporary the way a hair dresser is a glorified barber.  But, that’s all there is in the early 21st century working world.  People bounce around from place to place.  My parents – who each worked for the same company for decades – just can’t fathom that kind of lifestyle.  I think my generation is the last accustomed to going to work for a company and staying there long enough to earn a reserved parking spot.

What can I say?  Well, I say to hell with corporate America, which I mention in my biography on this blog.  I used to play well with others in business; now, I just demand to be left alone.  What can I do?  Jump start my writing career of course!  I consider myself a professional writer anyway – although I haven’t gotten anything published yet.  I’m determined, though, to change that once and for all and get my book published before year’s end – hopefully before the Mayan Apocalypse.  Yea, yea, I know.  Believe it when you see it.

My father and a few friends have already told me things will “work out for the better.”  I suppose I could be that optimistic.  But, I’ll be more cynical and state emphatically that things never just “work out.”  Someone has to make it work.  You can rely upon other people to help shape your future, or you can grab the shit by the throat and shape it the way you damn well please.  Ultimately, every able-bodied, able-minded person has to fend for themselves.  Damn!  I’m starting to sound like a Republican!   I knew nightly doses of Bacardi and Coke would eventually have an impact on me.

2 Comments

Filed under Essays

Tagged as ,

August 16, 2012 · 7:55 AM

Pause

I wanted to let my followers know that I plan to take a brief hiatus from this blog.  I need to ready my novel for publication.  It just got rejected by another mainstream publisher, so I’m leaning towards self-publication.  I truly enjoy blogging, but it takes considerable time and effort.  I’ve been struggling to balance that with other writings and my new full-time work life.  I haven’t had much time to exercise either.  I’d vowed never to let my health be compromised by anything.  But, I’ve noticed that, as I push 50, life gets busier and more hectic.  It can also become increasingly disappointing.  Still, writing is my first passion; my first and only true love in life.  So, that’s where my heart will be for the next couple of weeks at least.

I feel it’s way past time to get this thing done.  I first had the idea in the early 1990’s, jotted down a few notes and some semblance of a synopsis, before putting aside to deal with other stuff going on at the time.  Yes, life does get in the way; then again, I sort of let it get in the way.  I began working on the novel again in 2000 and – once again – let other crap interfere.  I’ve just put it off for too long.  Thank you to everyone for subscribing to my blog.  I’m not disappearing altogether.  If something really significant arises, I’ll jump back into it.  But for now, I need to get this novel done.  I’m tired of working for other people and corporate entities.  Writing is – and always has been – the only true career path for me.

Leave a comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as ,

August 15, 2012 · 8:57 PM

Working Enemies

If you’re experiencing problems at work, here are your 2 best courses of action:

  • Deal with it.
  • Get the hell out of the company.

Sometimes, the latter choice is the best, especially if the organization’s culture seems so incredibly corrupt that nothing will change for you.  Eventually, those companies self-destruct under the weight of their own arrogance.  It happens all the time.

You actually have a third choice: complain to the human resources division.  But, I’ve learned this can actually backfire and makes things worse for you.  Business news flash: HR is not your friend.  Their purpose is to ensure the company functions smoothly, which means simply making a profit for their shareholders.  If said company perceives an individual to be part of a problem, they’ll do everything short of murder to get rid of that person.  Filing a complaint of some sort – any sort – means something has gone awry.  Managers and supervisors can easily twist things around to make it look like you’re the source of the trouble.  Yes, sometimes they really do target people.  If you’re shocked, then you either haven’t been around long enough, or you live in a fantasy world.  Get over your denial and wake up.

Corporations don’t care about people.  As stated above, they’re only concern is to earn revenue.  That’s why companies rarely do things out of the goodness of their own heart.  They don’t have a heart.  It’s a company.  Mitt Romney may think corporations are people, too, but he’s as clueless as his trophy wife when it comes to the realities average people face every damn day of their lives.  Companies will only make things right, when their profits are threatened.  Then, they’ll jump through hoops and do cartwheels, especially if things have been documented, and an employee or former employee has stuff in writing; i.e. emails.  Believe me – I’ve experienced and seen this firsthand.

I know I was targeted several years ago, when I worked in the wire transfer division of a large bank.  One day in August of 1995, the entire system collapsed, and hundreds of transfers didn’t get sent.  They had to be printed up and dispatched manually; not surprisingly, a few got duplicated.  The largest was in excess of $200,000.  When the account officer called the unit in which I worked late one afternoon, the associate who answered the phone couldn’t handle her.  So, I talked to the account officer and took on the responsibility of contacting the receiving bank to get the second transfer back.  It looked simple on paper.  But then, my supervisor and manager decided to write me up over it; saying I hadn’t acted on it quickly enough.  I tried protesting, but was afraid to lose my job.  In retrospect, it probably would have been best, as I realized later they did everything they could to get me to resign.  But, I didn’t.  I made it through that period and stayed on at the bank until I got laid off in 2001.

That particular manager – who literally walked around with his nose stuck up in the air – resigned his position in early 1996 to work for an insurance company.  Only one year later, however, he lost his job at that company and then tried to return to the bank.  But, they didn’t have a spot for him.  My immediate supervisor – who turned out to be a mentally unstable hypocrite – didn’t fare much better.  She got transferred to another unit at the end of 1995, then booted out of the department altogether because of poor performance.  She came very close to losing her job.  When I saw her a few years later, she told me she was an administrative assistant; a step down for her.  I was an executive administrative assistant by then.  I emphasized the word “executive,” and I think she got the hint.  I don’t know what happened to either of them afterwards and I never gave a damn.  What goes around comes around.  Both those fuckers got what they deserved.  It was my only consolation.

That ordeal was nothing, however, in comparison to what a friend of mine endured around the same time.  He was a CPA for a large software firm and had become the butt of crass jokes by coworkers, which happened to me on a few occasions.  And, as in my situation, it seemed his managers had targeted him.  But, unlike me, he filed complaints with HR; thinking, as do most people, they would help him out and ease the situation.  That’s when things worsened, he told me back then.  But, something else was happening; something that ultimately would turn things around in his favor.  He suspected his superiors were deliberately sabotaging his work just to make him look bad.  I almost didn’t believe him.  In my infinite naivety back then, I didn’t think that would actually happen.  One manager tried to make a game out of it, he said, rejecting his work with coy notes and sad attempts at humor.  They didn’t think it was funny, though, when he walked into the office one Friday – and then, left at noon.  He’d resigned without the requisite two weeks’ notice – on the last business day of the third quarter in 1996.  He contemplated suing the company for harassment, but didn’t have the energy for it.  He was just glad to leave.  But, he said, they paid the price.  He learned from a former colleague that all the work his managers had mutilated simply to make him look incompetent and lazy ended up causing more damage for the company.  They had to spend time and money correcting those alleged “mistakes.”  Heads rolled, he told me with an evil glint in his eye.  What goes around, comes around.

There was more drama at the engineering company where I last worked than in an entire season of The Guiding Light.  And, just like the show, it was perpetual; it just went on and on, over and over; the same crap.  Much of it was self-induced, but other concerns were legitimate.  It was during my 8-year tenure at that company that I realized the truth about so-called human resources.  Because the company handled a multitude of government contracts, they were allegedly concerned about employees’ ethical behavior on the job.  Therefore, some of my colleagues tried to make use of the company’s much-heralded ethics committee, which turned out merely to be an extension of HR.  Every single person I knew who filed a well-meaning grievance with the ethics committee either resigned or got fired.

In the spring of 2008, three women took a leave of absence; one after another.  The first two resigned while still on leave.  The third managed to make it back and eventually became my supervisor; a hyperactive, emotionally-distraught creature who reminded me of that one perpetually-menopausal bitch at the bank in 1995.  But, I learned later that those first two women filed harassment suits against the company after submitting their resignations – and settled.  I also found out that other former employees had sued the company.  It doesn’t look good when a company that boasts high ethical standards finds itself in court, combating harassment allegations.

But, a company’s human resources division is much like a city’s police force.  Both are there to maintain a sense of order and discipline, but they really won’t help you.  You can respect them to a certain degree and work with them when absolutely necessary.  But, you just can’t trust them.  They’re not your friend.  That’s not their purpose.

One of my coworkers at the engineering company was a proverbial good old boy from Louisiana.  He didn’t have any college education, had spent 4 years in the Air Force and had a penchant for daiquiris, cheese and big-breasted women.  But, he was smarter than most people with a string of letters at the end of their surname.  He predicted some of us would get laid off before the end of 2010; months after we lost the prime contract with a government agency, but were kept on as sub-contractors.  He had dealt with the same people and endured the same level of stress and frustration the rest of us did.  But, he never felt compelled to complain to HR about anything – not even an ethical issue.  “HR is not our friend,” he told me, after one of those women who’d gone on sick leave had resigned.

Yes, I knew that; deep down inside, I’d always been aware of it.  But – in my past efforts to hope for the best – I guess I just didn’t want to admit it out loud.  In the cold, brutal world of 21st century business, though, things are much like medieval Europe.  We each have to figure out a way to survive.  We’re all left unto our own devices.  And, sometimes the best device is a resignation letter.

Leave a comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as , , , ,

August 11, 2012 · 9:09 PM

Giving In, Giving Up

Recently, El Mañana newspaper in Nuevo Laredo, México, announced that it will no longer cover certain crimes – mainly those that appear drug-related.  In an official statement, the paper stated succinctly:

“The editorial board of the company has come to this regrettable decision because of the circumstances that we all know about and the lack of conditions to freely carry out journalism.”

The “conditions” refers to several facts; among them that less than half of all crimes in México are solved.  Another is that the drug cartels are winning México’s current war on the narcotics trade, which is the result of yet another condition: the Mexican government has lost almost complete control of its military and police forces.  What happened to Bolivia and Colombia in the 1970’s is happening to México now – but with a lot more blood.  The drug cartels have forced their way into the Mexican fabric of life.  They’ve intimidated people into not running for public office and not voting.  They’ve forced entire police forces to abandon their posts.  Now, they’re compelling newspapers and magazines to stop talking about them.  Someone should have seen this coming.

When newly-elected Mexican President Felipe Calderon formally launched the nation’s war on drugs in December 2006, many American politicians collectively said, ‘It’s about time.’  Many drug policy experts, however, merely shook their heads.  I don’t think any of them really knew what horror would be unleashed upon the Mexican populace.

Thus far, in the past five years, the “war” has claimed nearly 48,000 lives.  The U.S. casualty rate from the Vietnam War stands at just over 58,100 – not including those listed as missing-in-action – in more than a decade of involvement.

The incessant violence has prompted the U.S. State Department to heighten its alerts.  Mexican tourism has experienced a predictable drop in visiting Americans.  Religious missionaries are starting to forsake the poor and downtrodden in México for the safety of their own staff.

But, there’s yet another condition people often don’t admit: Americans are the biggest consumers of illegal narcotics.  As of 2011, an estimated 22 million U.S. residents age 12 and older – almost 9% of the population – use illegal drugs.  In contrast, roughly 5% of México’s population consumes illegal drugs; a fact that Mexicans are quick to point out.  The drugs are flowing north from Latin America into the U.S. and staying here.  They’re not being shipped further north into Canada, or out to Europe and Asia.  The U.S. isn’t a staging ground for the shipment of narcotics; México is.  And, Americans are happy to buy.  They always have been, in part because they’ve always had the extra cash.

That’s one reason why I never felt sorry for Robert Downey, Jr., as he battled his proverbial demons, and never shed any tears for Whitney Houston when she overdosed and died back in February.  People like that are responsible for America’s drug pandemic and – vicariously – the horrific bloodshed along the U.S. – México border.  If they didn’t have the appetite for cocaine, methamphetamine, marijuana, or whatever they take, and the money to buy it, we wouldn’t be in this mess.  It’s really as simple as that.

The solutions, however, are not so simple.  The U.S. has to revamp its entire drug policy.  México has to rebuild its political and law enforcement structures.  They each have to realize the problems lie with both countries and stop pointing their fingers at one another.

Source.

Here’s proof how ingrained narcotics have become in American culture.  Late on the afternoon of July 24, a Dallas police officer fatally shot an unarmed man in a residential area of the city’s far southeastern corner.  It didn’t help that the policeman is White, and the victim was Black.  The dead man, James Harper, had previous convictions for drug dealing and had run from a house that police knew was a place where drugs were sold.  Police had responded to a fake 911 call claiming “four Latin males armed with weapons” had forced a Black man into the house with his hands tied behind his back.  When officers tried to enter the house, Harper and three other men bolted from it.  One man was caught and immediately surrendered.  But, Harper ended up in a physical confrontation with one of the policemen whom he kicked in the chest.  The officer managed to remove his weapon and shoot Harper to death.

Almost immediately chaos erupted on the streets, as scores of residents poured out of their homes.  More police arrived, as did the media.  But, the pastor of a local church also showed up and dived into the agitated crowd.  His presence, perhaps, helped to quell the anger on that hot Tuesday afternoon.

As the ruckus subsided, one woman asked the city of Dallas to pray for that neighborhood.  “There’s a demon here!” she screamed through tear-stained eyes.

Now, residents in the area known as Dixon Circle have joined with the “New Black Panthers,” members of “Occupy Dallas” and others to protest the shooting.  They allegedly want Dallas police off the neighborhood’s streets – which doesn’t seem to be the smartest demand for a crime-ridden locale.  They’re upset about the shooting, but they don’t seem too bothered by the fact that a drug house existed in their midst.  Dallas law enforcement apparently knew about the house since April 2011.  I have to wonder:

  1. why Dallas police let that go for so long and;
  2. why residents are angrier about the death of a convicted drug dealer than the fact that drugs were being sold in their neighborhood.

This is the crux of the problem.  Just as drug cartels seemingly have infiltrated México’s political and law enforcement systems, some communities in the U.S. have let drug dealers operate with impunity.

It’s easy for me to sit in the comfort of my suburban Dallas home and declare that México’s newspapers shouldn’t let themselves be intimidated into silence.  But, that’s just the writer in me.  A number of journalists have been murdered in México in recent years, as they covered the ongoing drug war and linked the violence to government and police officials.  Therefore, I understand why El Mañana newspaper has made that difficult decision.  But, if someone doesn’t speak up for the victims of the failed Mexican and U.S. drug wars, who will?  Silence about these matters just isn’t an option.

Leave a comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as , ,

August 10, 2012 · 9:11 PM

Busyness

The other day, at work, as I waited for my lunch to warm up in one of the two microwaves, a woman stepped to the other microwave and – when she popped open the door – was surprised to see someone else’s food inside.  She decided to leave it there, in case that person came back.  But, they hadn’t by the time my food was done.

“They either forgot,” I said jokingly, “or they returned to their desk, and someone grabbed them, saying, ‘I need you to look at this.’”

“Exactly!” she laughed.

Friday morning, as I retrieved ice from the break room, I noticed two halves of a bagel in the toaster.  A few seconds later a man rushed in and snatched them out.

“I forgot!” he said with a sharp chuckle.  “I went back to my desk and got caught up in something.”

“That happens,” I replied.

I’ve seen that before – several times.  It’s happened to me.  I get busy with one thing and then another.  And then, yet something else comes into play, and it goes on and on and on.

That’s how the world functions now – idleness is no longer just a vice; it’s an impossibility.  None of us can sit still for very long.  Like hyperactive children, we have to be doing something.

I know I have to stay occupied.  My mind runs like a Bengal tiger going in for the kill.  That may explain my past insomnia.  I look at my stack of books and magazines and list of Internet news articles that I want to read and keep telling myself I’ll get to them at some point.  Hopefully.  Before I die.

People hate the term “multi-tasking,” one of the few curses born of the 1990’s; a decade that showed how energetic and prosperous we could be.  Then again, multi-tasking may be partly responsible for the extreme productivity of that era.  People rushed to get so much done within a small window of time.

In the late ‘90’s, I was an administrative assistant at a large bank in Dallas where multi-tasking had become embedded into the corporate culture.  We couldn’t just sit at our desks and look pretty.  No one had that much time.  Our division supported an affluent clientele, and those people seemed to demand a lot.  Thus, when one of them called, I had to act as if though I’d been waiting for them all day and had nothing else to do, except tend to their needs.  But then, the bank demanded a lot from us.  One morning, my boss arrived for a meeting, when he should have been at a doctor’s appointment.  I was scheduled to sit in on the meeting for him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, as he staggered towards his office.

He’d forgotten about the appointment.  The meeting had taken precedence in his mind – the way the Ebola virus overwhelms the human body.  He stood there for a moment beside my desk.  I could see the veins in his forehead undulating.  He contemplated whether to proceed with the meeting or head back out to the doctor’s office.  I finally convinced him to visit the doctor.

“Your health is more important,” I told him.  “You have family.  This shit can wait.”

Work can always wait.  Nothing really is more critical than your health and your family.  Proof: just a few months later that same boss got laid off after nearly 24 years at the bank.  All the time and energy he’d put into his job?  Bam!  Smashed into the floor like a dirty cockroach.  It didn’t seem to matter.  The company had a budget.

But, I know that my busyness is of my own design.  It’s self-imposed.  I did it to myself.  I used to get upset when people disrespected me, before I realized I would let them.  It was their fault that they couldn’t bring themselves to treat me with any sense of decency.  But, it was my fault that I didn’t talk back to them.  Now, I talk back, and occasionally that gets me in trouble.  But, I don’t want others taking control of me.  Yet, taking control of my life has often left little room for what’s really important: my aging parents, my dog, my handful of friends, my creative writing that soothes my cluttered psyche.  I have to step back and swallow the frustration, then spit it back out.

It’s actually good to be busy.  Idleness is a vice – unless you’re trying to meditate and decompress.  I’ve even had to force myself to do that!  But, it helps.  It’s bad, though, to be consumed by so many things at once.  Extremes are detrimental to your health.  And, they’re not worth the trouble.  They never are.

Image.

Leave a comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as , ,

August 9, 2012 · 9:10 PM

We Go Through This Every Year

It’s hot.  It’s supposed to be.  It’s summer in the Northern Hemisphere.  That’s when our side of the Earth is closest to the sun.  Physics 101.  Ergo – the temperatures get just a tad bit warmer this time of year.  Deal with it!

We go through this every year.  Even here in Texas – where high Celsius marks are matched only by the arrogance of our politicians – meteorologists and safety officials have to tell people to stay out of the sun and drink lots of water.  Older people, children and folks with perpetual paranoia syndrome (it may not be in medical texts, but I know it exists) are especially susceptible to the heat.  Don’t leave pets in vehicles, count your brood of kids when you return from an outing, try not to fall asleep atop your boat on the lake after downing a keg of Miller Lite – they tell people these things.  Every damn year!  And, some idiot leaves a dog in a car with the windows rolled up or forgets that the youngest child was asleep in the back.

Just recently, a police officer left his two dogs in his police truck – and forgot about them!  And, the bastard was a canine handler at that.  Surprise – both dogs suffocated to death.  He’s been placed on a leave of absence pending the outcome of an investigation.  I have a great idea.  Duct tape his ass to the roof of Mitt Romney’s Bentley and leave him there until after the elections.

I have some nerve to rant.  I actually like to go out jogging in this weather – although I haven’t been out jogging in a few years.  But, in the middle of a torrid summer afternoon, clad in nothing but running shorts, running shoes and matching ball cap or kerchief, I’d head out to taunt the sun.  People look at me like…well, like they’ve never seen someone outside running.

What’s wrong with you?!  Are you crazy?!

No – just had too many sunburns as a kid and got used to it.

Late one Saturday afternoon several years ago, I took a lengthy jog around the park across the street from the apartment complex where I used to live.  It’s a nice little area, and I had it all to myself.  Came back sweating like a Coke bottle stuck up a Brahma bull’s ass and smelled just as bad.  Fully aware of my surroundings though; knew how far to push myself.  As I reached the street, headed back towards the complex, along comes a Dallas police officer, slowly ambling down the street in her cruiser.  Good, I thought, she’s keeping an eye on the neighborhood.  I couldn’t have been more wrong!

She opened her passenger side window and hollered, “Are you crazy?!  Do you realize how hot it is out here?!”

“Yes,” I replied, sweat starting to irritate my eyes.  Are you kidding me?  She stopped to ask me that?!  There aren’t any real criminals to accost?  Can’t she kind a carjacker and yell at them instead?  She wasted five minutes of precious taxpayer time to scold me for jogging on a triple-digit-temperature day?  Must have been a slow crime day.  Or, maybe she just felt like screaming at someone because she had to work on a Saturday afternoon.

People from the cooler climates have the unwitting tendency to ask, ‘Do you ever get used to the heat?’

Do you get used to the cold?

Hell no!  You never get used to it.  Just like you never get used to bad days at work and people driving slow in the left lane.  You just deal with that shit when it slams you in the face.  You can’t get used to extremes.  That’s impossible.  Animals deal with extreme temperature and weather conditions better than most people.  Navy SEALs do pretty well with those elements, too.  But, the rest of us aren’t genetically programmed as nicely.

So, I leave more skin cells on the steering wheel of my truck after it’s been sitting beneath the sun for some time and try to keep my eyes on the road, despite burying my face in a cooling vent.  That’s how I deal with it.  Just don’t yell at me!

Image.

1 Comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as , ,

August 5, 2012 · 5:40 PM

Grinding

As I enter my first full month at my new contract technical writing job, I can’t help but reflect on the way things used to be in the work place.  As I fast approach 50, I find that a common occurrence.  Now, I know why my parents and former coworkers were so bitter all those years ago.  You give your life to a company and often have little to show for it – although through no fault of your own.  People in the 50 and over category have had the toughest time in this dismal economy.  Thanks to Bush’s trickle-down economics on steroids and two unplanned, unfunded wars, we’re still mired in the worst financial crises in almost 90 years.  Somehow the clowns in both houses of Congress don’t really get it.  President Obama inherited this mess and has had a rough time straightening it out.  But, he’s just one person; he can’t do it alone.  Yet, while our elected officials try to upstage one another, real Americans continue struggling.

When I landed this job last month, the recruiter was kind of surprised I didn’t react with more glee.  “I’ll believe it when I start,” I told him jokingly – but, deep down inside, not at all joking.  Last summer I landed a 90-day contract technical writing job that the client pulled after only three weeks because their vendor wasn’t producing the work as anticipated.  And, I never heard from the recruiter again.  So, I went back on unemployment and revamped my resume to make it look as good as it can with all these gaps.  Explaining those three-weeks-on-90-days mess was especially challenging.  Fortunately, most people seemed to understand, given the current economic climate.  Or, at least they give that impression.

I kept in contact with that recruiter; emailing him weekly letting him know, ‘Hey, I’m still here!  I’m still available!  I’m free!  No plans yet!’  And, I never heard from him again.  He must have set my email address to spam.  He was young, probably no more than 30.  I hope he has erectile dysfunction for the rest of his life.

I also did the obligatory 5 contacts per week to maintain my unemployment benefits.  Each time I filed a claim, I wondered when Congress would start proceedings to find out how the big banks and other financial monstrosities were able to destroy our economy in less than a decade.  Seriously!  Herbert Hoover and Andrew Mellon would be impressed.  But, Congress was more concerned about what professional baseball players were using steroids.  Kind of like how the Southern Baptist Convention is more concerned about gay marriage than real problems such as poverty and child malnutrition.

Occasionally, my parents still have bad dreams about their working days.  I don’t want to imitate that part of their lives.  I’ve only had a handful of dreams about work.  I can recall two in the months after I lost my job at an engineering company in October 2010.  In the first one, I was at corporate headquarters in San Diego with the project manager who had hired me in 2002.  The building sat right along the coast, and the entire area was on edge because a tsunami was approaching.  We only had a few more minutes before we had to evacuate to the upper levels, or try to flee inland.  But, because we had so much work to do, that project manager told me we had to remain in the building.  Besides, he said in his usual dull, nonchalant tone of voice, he would stay with me.  Then, as the sirens went off and people began marching up the stairs, he disappeared.  I looked around the suddenly vacant offices, but he was gone.  ‘Fuck him!’ I said aloud and headed up a stairwell alone.  I didn’t need his help.

In the second dream, I was back in downtown Dallas, at the regional headquarters of the federal agency where I’d worked for the better part of my career with the engineering company; laboring on a government contract.  We had a meeting with some federal officials.  I got caught up on a task and left late for the meeting.  But, I couldn’t find where everyone was.  I wondered all over the damn building, it seemed, before I ended up in the break room – tired and butt naked!  Yes, naked.  Somehow, my clothes had fallen off.  I know a lot of married people say that, when they get caught screwing around.  But, there I was – butt- ass naked in a break room with a bunch of equally tired government employees.  And, no one seemed to care.

I could get all philosophical about those two dreams and reveal exactly what I think they mean.  But, I know the inherent theme is that, in today’s business world, you’re pretty much on your own.  Human resources isn’t your friend; your boss isn’t your friend; your coworkers aren’t your friends; and your elected officials aren’t your friends.  You’re like a wild dog; just left to your own devices.

No worries.  I can handle that.  Twenty-plus years ago, people were still going to work for a company and staying there with decent pay and benefits.  That’s about the time things started to change – for better or worse is up to personal opinions.  Now, people work contract and buy their own insurance.  They move from job to job.  They take care of and keep to themselves.  It’s ironic in that it’s how this country was built – people minding their own business and not expecting others to care for them.

No worries.  I can handle that, too.  And, run from a tsunami just as well!

Leave a comment

Filed under Essays

Tagged as , ,