The Hack

... (Hack)...

... (Hack)...

... (Hack)...

... (Silence)...

I slowly turn my head around in disgust to view the vile being that had been vacating his lungs of a strain of virus that I swear will threaten the existence of all of the persons on the bus. He looks me straight in my eyes and he resumes reading his magazine. If you have read this blog from the beginning, you will be aware that while I tend to express my dissatisfaction for certain behaviors, I have never wished ill-will upon individuals.  

Today that all changed… I now know that the bubbling that I felt deep within my stomach was not the Burger King at the pit stop, but rather the escalating rage that I was feeling for this creature three aisles behind. Why was this beast not locked up in quarantine in some federal lab? Who would be responsible for any sickness that I experience?

ON A SIDE: I just typed the word “responsible” and realized the magnitude of that word with regard to our society. When one is responsible they should be “able to answer for one’s conduct or obligations.” Will this animal on the bus answer for his decision to leave his house and board this bus this morning? Better yet… Based on his symptoms, will he even be around long enough to answer???

You may read this next paragraph and wonder where I am pulling some of this crap from, but bear with me for a while… I am leaving the club at 4:30 in the morning, after a long night of Purple Label, and the occasional shots of patron. Do I get into my Hyundai Excel? Or do I call a cab to take me home? Easy question huh? Then please tell me why someone won’t sit their slimy ass at home when they can’t go for two minutes without hacking a lung out onto the sidewalk?

Again, this will sound awful, so please forgive me… My patron shots puts four people six feet in the ground due to my irresponsibility. On the other hand your hacking sends the world into a panic, shutting down travel destinations, halting world trade, and straining the already fragile health care system. Yes, every life counts… But $2.2 billion taken from a developing country’s GDP is no joke.

NEXT SIDE NOTE: With all of this talk of $800 billion stimulus plans and $1.6 trillion deficits, we may have lost sight of how much money $1 billion actually is.  With the average American making around $40,000/year, how many years at a 5% pay raise will it take for them to hit this magic number? ANSWER:  Never die, or wait for the American dollar to devalue to meet that of Zimbabwe’s.

So why exactly does this guy believe that he should have boarded this bus? Is it an inflated sense of self worth? Or maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt, and assume that he has a commitment that far outweighs the possibility of placing scores of other people in harm’s way… Actually… Forget it… I will not give him the benefit of the doubt, because given the fact that there are only 793 billionaires in the world today, the chances of him being one of them is significantly lower than the chance of him spreading his disease to all of us travelers.

What are the chances? I asked myself the question as soon as I heard the first cough… But I am sure that the infected beast also asks himself the very question when he feels the mucus tickling his bronchioles… Does he even know that he is sick? Does he want to accept that he is sick? Maybe I have been too hard on him from the very beginning… Can I find a way to justify why my being on the bus would be worth me traveling if there was a chance of me carrying a virulent killer virus?

But that is what we humans do isn’t it? We push the envelope… We take risks… It is engrained in our psyche to believe that we can beat the odds. The minute we begin to doubt ourselves, we lose part of what makes us human. This can’t happen to me… I can’t be the one person to spread this to everyone else can I?

BUT WAIT NAH… 20 minutes later and I finally have mustered up the courage to admit it. I am THAT important… I will take THAT chance… And you CANNOT stop me from doing as I please.  No one can tell me when I should remain at home. It is not anyone’s place to dictate to me my freedom of movement. Don’t you think I have the sensibility to determine my level of health if I make the decision to be in an enclosed public setting? No one should be have the right to look at me with a “stink eye” if I cough, or put their hand to their nose if I sneeze. Are you afraid that I don’t respect you enough to consider that I might be placing you at risk? 

Wow… I’m seeing things through the nasty bus vermin’s eyes now. Maybe it is I who deserved the mean stare, and the thoughts of demise. I repeal all of my thoughts dear sir, for you have a right to be on that bus… You have a right to use your judgment to make decisions that affect other people… No one else but YOU… To hell with everyone else if they don’t understand how small the risk is… Just do you…

 

"Road Block" - Contributed by Bubbles

Imagine this if you will. It is ten minutes to one and your lunch hour ends at one, but yet you are stuck in your car crawling at two inches per minute.

 You are inevitably going to be late, because the office is definitely more than ten minutes away. It’s sweltering hot, and the A/C; well the A/C has gone on strike leaving you to sit and slow roast. There’s a vagrant across the street sending you a “sweet eye”; hopefully, he doesn’t feel the need to come closer. You try your hardest not to stare. Then, you see the cars ahead start moving. Handbrake down, foot to gas, ready to go…. The car inches forward only to have to stop again, because a group of pedestrians saw it an appropriate time to jaywalk.

I detest going into town.  Not because of the heat, I can handle the heat. I can handle the random vagrant asking for $2.00 to buy some bread. I can even handle the traffic…sometimes. What I absolutely cannot handle is the complete lack of respect of motorists by pedestrians. What possibly possesses persons to make them feel that it is a good idea to step off the sidewalk and start walking in the street, completely oblivious to oncoming traffic? Does someone have a death wish?

Let’s break it down like this. I’m driving along, maybe not paying as much attention as I should, and a car “appears” in front of me. I don’t brake fast enough, and we’ve got a fender-bender. After some argument, exchange of insurance information, and a visual of the few thousand dollars that will be depleted from my account, we can all move along with our lives. Substitute “car” with “human” and we’ve got a completely different situation. Body on the ground, ambulance on its way, me being escorted away in handcuffs. Okay. Maybe this is a bit extreme, but any idiot who runs into the road in the middle of oncoming traffic has a death wish, and I really don’t want to go to jail.

I sometimes ponder whether or not pedestrians realize that there is a pedestrian crossing 20 feet away from where they have just crossed in front of my car. What is so hard about walking down the sidewalk a few more steps, and then crossing when it is actually YOUR TURN TO CROSS?

When I was learning to drive, the Highway Code booklet stated “one should give way to pedestrians on the designated pedestrian crossing”. The way I interpret it, I really don’t HAVE to stop, I’m not going to get ticketed if I don’t (unless there’s a traffic light) but I SHOULD stop, because, the pedestrian does need to cross the road and as courteous drivers we need to respect that.  So Mr./Ms. Pedestrian, I’m being courteous when I stop at the crossing, so don’t walk as if you have no place going, while talking on your cell phone – that definitely is not courtesy.

I try to remain calm when confronted by these traffic flow inhibiting, street invading pedestrians. They undertake a completely different demeanor. 

Hostile people. Have you ever tried to blow your horn at them? They turn around slowly, and with the most menacing look, they let out a barrage of profanities. “Sorry Boss,” I think to myself, “You look like you’ll take the Mrs. Dash well…get out the damn road,” but I never have the guts to say it.

BUT WAIT NAH… all this talk about pedestrians in the streets, obstructing traffic, I thought that’s why sidewalks were constructed in the first place? If the authorities wanted you to walk in the street, they would have made it a pedestrian only zone. But until then, if you so crave take over in the streets, and you can’t find that permanent pedestrian only zone, I suggest you wait to be a part of the Macy’s parade.  

Pay day

“Is rent due already???”

It’s Friday, and I just got paid! Naturally, you would think that I was elated, huh? Nope, every two weeks it’s the same old story:

1. Check the bank account to see that X amount of dollars was deposited…
2. Do the quick math to figure out how much money I’m donating to the Feds…
3. Mentally set aside some cash for bills, bills, bills, and then rent…
4. Think about how much I could be saving if I didn’t have a job and lived with my parents…

Why do I check the amount of dollars deposited each time? It’s silly, I know… But there is always the fear that I may get screwed out my “hard earned” money.

ON A SIDE: I say “hard earned” money with the straightest of faces, even though I know that the highlight of my day is checking the latest Truth & Rumors on SI.com. It is “hard earned” because I get out of bed knowing that while there is nothing for me to do, the expectation from my employer is that I will show up to work. Yeah, those are not very lofty expectations, but the least I could do is live up them… Kobe Bryant gets paid $21.3 million/year, and after every interview he speaks about the motivation, the passion, and the intensity that drive him. Please believe that the motivation to show up each morning, and the passion and intensity I demonstrate when screaming “Oh Shit!” when I wake up is worthy of at least the $X/year they pay me.

Sorry… Back to why I am not overcome with joy every two weeks. I’m not going to spend much time speaking on #2, because I pay my taxes, and I will not complain. I will leave that for another week. Perhaps I will address my annoyance with the 35% deduction from my paycheck the next time my mayor lends his homeboy a city vehicle to joyride about in, or when another federal agency is engulfed in a pornography watching scandal…

The next step of this game brings us to the calculation of where my money is going to be spent this next month, #3. It’s gotten to the point where barely even blink an eye when I receive the cell phone bill, cable/internet bill, or rent notice. Can I do without the services that paying them provides? Yes… Well at least for 2 out of the 3… But do I want to do without them is the better question. Obviously, the answer is a resounding NO. Therefore, as with my civic duty for paying taxes, I am compelled to chain myself to Comcast, Verizon, and Charles E. Smith Rentals for another month.

Thankfully, I have no loans to my name, I have no child payments to make, and I’m too cheap to consider owning a car. Things aren’t looking that bad after all…Based on the above I should be able to walk away in the black this month, with some money left over to place in my high yield 0.75% savings account. Add that to my 401k contribution and social security, I should be able to retire comfortably at a lower-middle class level in 50 years.

BUT WAIT NAH… Something just hit me:

It’s Friday Bitches!!!

Why am I even spending my time writing this crap? Instead of thinking about bills, how much of my paycheck I end up taking home, and savings, I should be getting my mind right for the club tonight. What better way to get my mind off the stark realities of life than to go get drunk with hundreds of people who are way too cool to even worry about how to balance the equation of income versus expenditure…

ON A SIDE: I mention “stark realities” above… But who really dictates that that is in fact a reality. Can I not make my own reality? If I don’t want to be consumed with bills, money, and work, then isn’t that my reality?

Why live in the reality dominated by money and bills, when I could cavort in the world of Dom Perignon and Versace? The only “reality” that I should be concerned with is making sure that Mr. Mastercard, Ms. Visa, and Dr. Express are ready for a long night of full exposure.

LAST ON A SIDE: It took me 25 years, but it has finally hit me.  I have been complaining about my job, and making snide comments about my “hard earned” cash, while the truth was right in front of me. I am going to blame my parents for hiding this from me… Did they think I needed to find this out on my own? Was this a test? I always wondered how everyone could live like a rock star, while I sat there thinking about bank account balances…

My employer pays me… I pay my taxes… My taxes are used to pay the banks… The banks then “reward” me with credit cards… That’s how it works!!! If Bill Gates came up to you on the street and offered you $2k, what is the first thing you would do? I would probably look for the tv cameras. But in the end, I would take the cash, especially if it was coming from someone as respected as the co-founder of Microsoft. So what’s the difference if Bank of AMERICA offers you a nice silver cash card? They’re well respected, and they sure as hell have billions of dollars available for lending to people like me…

Our HR Dept never taught us new hires about this in our orientation… But I’ve got it now. Company A pays you $X/year, which is below that which you feel you deserve. But while the in hand payment is small, your spending potential skyrockets. All the man in the bank wants to see is that you are willing to work. He doesn’t care if you make $2 million, or $0.75. He just wants you to show that you are trying… It is obvious now that I have been looking at it from the wrong perspective. It’s not the money that you have available to spend, but rather the LIMIT that you place on your spending.

Arthur C. Clarke says “The limits of the possible can only be defined by going beyond them into the impossible.” Never has anything more correct been spoken. Why should I restrict myself to the $15k limit set by Bank of America, when Capital One will grant me the freedom to spend $30k?

Therefore, I am going to use the freedom that has been afforded to me without a second thought… Tonight I am going to chart a new course, in a world that is void of the dull and dreary so called realities of life. I am going to make my own reality… No more will I worry about tedium such as finding a way to stimulate my savings for retirement.

I am going to live for TODAY and hold NO regrets TOMORROW.

It is Friday and RENT IS DUE on Monday… But that is another lifetime away…

"Friend" Request...

“Be All You Can Be” was the recruiting slogan of the United States Army for over twenty years. While the phrase has technically been retired with "Army Strong," it has become the implicit axiom of millions of caricatures worldwide. Please note that I say caricature because of the exaggerated nature of the person being portrayed.

Caricatures have held a significant place throughout society, they have been used insultingly or complimentary, can serve a political purpose, or be purely for entertainment purposes.

However, when does exaggeration for entertainment become utter self aggrandizing? Is the purpose of the finely constructed character to make a point? Or is it simply a means to live out the fantasy that one has been unable to attain outside of the friendly confines of the internet? Is it too late to know the difference between that which you have created, and the person that exists two feet away from the screen? Better yet… What would happen to the actual individual if their virtual creation ceased to exist?

The most obvious example of exaggerated caricature development can be witnessed on networking sites such as Facebook, MySpace, and YouTube. Ask members of these sites why they join, and their reasons typically can vary from “sharing experiences with friends and family,” “reconnecting with old schoolmates,” “seeing pictures and events that are happening in friends lives,” to “trying to hookup with someone.” Of the four typical responses, which do you think was said with the most sincerity?

ON A SIDE: The word friend came up in the last paragraph. It is amazing how the definition of that word has evolved in only the last few years… In the past, a friend was considered to be someone whom one knows, likes, and trusts. That is quite a combination isn’t it? So does simply knowing someone constitute them as a friend? How about meeting 2 out of the 3 criteria? Ultimately, it is a personal choice as to what one determines as the qualifications for someone being a friend. Who knows… Maybe it is normal to have 2,500 “friends” that you enjoy “sharing experiences with…” Even better, how about 2,500 friends that can be potential hookups? I LOVE IT!

NUMBERS GAME: Take a list of your friend list on MySpace, or Facebook, and go through each of the persons on your lists assigning them the following numbers:

• Talked to the person for more than 4 total hours in person: 2 points
• Talked to the person for less than 15 minutes person: 1 point
• Never talked to the person, but have seen them before: 0 points
• Never talked to them, but we have friends/interests in common: -1 point
• Don’t know the person at all, but they look hot: -2 points

There is no optimal total score, but isn’t it fun to see how numbers can be used to make one a little sketched out by their “friendships”???

I apologize for straying, but I will get back to the actual caricatures soon. There’s just so much stuff to talk about regarding social networks. I think I only have one more question… If you sent me a friend request, do you have a problem with me looking at your published pictures? Based on some status updates, I get the feeling that people don’t want other people to look at their profiles or pictures… Here’s a hint: Don’t add people that you don’t want looking at your business…

SIDE AGAIN: If you don’t want people to be up in your business, how about NEVER posting anything on your status? The purpose of the status is to let people know what you’re thinking. If your girlfriend left you, please believe that the instant you post an update about “insurmountable pain”, or a status change to “Single,” people will begin to ask questions… If you didn’t post it, how many people do you think would ask questions? Simple huh?

Back to caricatures

I have 50 photo albums, and 48 of them show me out at the club with a bottle in one hand and a lady in the other… The remaining 2 albums show me standing in front of parked cars, dressed with my cashmere sweaters, slim fit jeans, and white leather shoes.

My favorite books are anything written by Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, Charles Dickens, and George Orwell.

My favorite activities are yachting, drinking fine wine, studying Greek architecture, and spending summer in Madrid.

Some of my favorite music is written by Ludwig Van Beethoven and Giuseppi Vierdi.

Quotes that I hold dearly are “Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely”and “The quality of an individual is reflected in the standards they set for themselves.”

I am The Most Important Person in the World

But WAIT NAH … If you’re the most interesting man in the world, how then can HE the most interesting man in the world? But wait, what if I want to be The Most Interesting Man in the World? Can we ALL be The Most Interesting Man in the World? Wait… That doesn’t make any sense, does it???

I guess I’ll just have to be myself then…

The Soaring Turkey

The definition of soar, when used as a verb means “to ascend to a higher or more exalted level.” We are always told to that we should never settle for anything less than your best.

Have you ever asked the question, “What exactly is my best?” Are you actually striving to be the best that you can be? Can your best be considered great? Here is a quick game for you. Look at the person nearest to you, whether at the office or school. Now imagine a turkey sitting in that same spot, doing exactly what a turkey does – Nothing. Now tell yourself who/what you would rather have sitting next to you… The decision isn’t that easy huh?

The first thing out of my mouth, four of the five working days, is “Oh Shit Man!” But I still roll over, head to the shower and run down the street to catch the bus. Why? Because I made a commitment to my employer to be there, rain or shine, to carry out the “mission” of the organization. Why then is my boss not bound to that same commitment? Why does he send an email expounding on the glorious day outside, and his decision to “work from home”?

SIDE NOTE: I think there should be an official ban on working from home, as it constitutes nothing but an opportunity for incompetent individuals to catch up on re-runs of Different Strokes and ESPN First Take. I take the privilege to WFH very seriously, as I wake up at the same time, shower and put on my clothes as if I am about to leave the house… All of this without the obligatory “Oh Shit Man!”

How have certain people gotten to where they are today? Yeah, I understand that it’s all about who you know, and all that stuff… But quite frankly I wouldn’t hire Jesus Christ if he couldn’t wrap his mind around why we need to provide an invoice to a client. Actually, Jesus did demonstrate the ability to work as part of a team, and his leadership qualities were outstanding… At least that’s what was written on his cover letter…

I frequently find myself thinking about Oliver Wendell Holmes' quote: “Greatness is not where we stand, but in what direction we are moving.” However, isn’t it also said that “No man is an island”??? It is true that we do not thrive when isolated from others, but imagine an island with 2 million turkeys all gobbling and having a good time… How many of them do you think will ever develop the ability to pack their belongings and bid adieu as they embark on a journey towards greatness?

BUT WAIT NAH… Am I saying that it is impossible to make something of yourself, when you are surrounded by incompetents? Nope… I’m just saying that it ain’t easy at all. This blog isn’t gonna trash any person, any group, or any belief… But it will definitely bring to question many of the aspects of our society that we indulge in, take for granted, or simply never spent a second reflecting on.

Remember… Turkeys can fly well enough to avoid predators by taking off and flying for short distances. This is a useful survival trait, but sooner or later you're going to end up regretting not trying to get to a higher altitude...