It's the last day of week two of college and I've experienced the same as the first week.
Mondays hit me like a sack of books. I start to feeling extremely overwhelmed. Then I go home and work my butt off all day Tuesday.
Wednesday's hit a little softer and only me bruise me into feeling a 'bit' overwhelmed. I go home and work my butt off all day Thursday and start planning for the next week.
Friday's hit and I'm a little more confident that I'm going to make it through.
I have three Education classes, three English classes and one Art class. So it's a LOT of reading. (As you would imagine.)
Already I've read Gilgamesh, portions of the Old Testament, chapters of Homer's Odyssey, Catcher in the Rye, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings and a wheelbarrow full of textbook chapters and supplemental articles...
So, I'll hit my classes today then head off with wonderful friends for a long weekend at the lake. Guess what I'm packing.
ALL MY BOOKS. But I don't resent it.
My friends are wonderful because while they're planning the weekend, they let me not think about it. "Please don't make me think." I said, "Just give me a list and I'll stop at the store along the way." They're going to let me drag my books to the lake and allow me to read, read, read.
Don't get me wrong, I'm going to come up for air, rum and cards. (You know, essentials.) And, I'm going to be reading
on a boat,
on a porch,
in a house,
near a spouse...
It's important to me to maintain the workload, but it's also important to have fun.
How many of you 'live for the weekend' but then only do things you couldn't get done during the week? Laundry, cleaning, pay bills, mow the lawn.
It's important to do all those things, but be sure to carve some time out for YOU.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Week One at Shepherd
Wow, I was so freaking overwhelmed.
Now I'm simply overwhelmed.
LOTS to read. Lots to write. And they're throwing me head first into the tutoring pool. (Which reminds me of the cartoon of the dog sticking his head out of the car window, bragging to another dog, "I'm going to the vet to be tutored.")
Oh! And get this...some scrawny little 20-something remarked that she felt so OLD compared to the other students.
And...and!...AND!...this other KID (I know I'll need to stop ranting about this soon) spoke with all his worldly wisdom on something about which he's COMPLETELY IGNORANT!
And this other person WON'T... STOP... TALKING TO ME! I'll call them "Sunny." Just as a homophone for someone else who provided me with inane chatter.
Notes, essays, reaction papers and annotated bibliographies...that's what Blue (above) has crinkled on his way to catnap land...and what I still have to do.
I don't know HOW I ever got through any of my prior education without reading "The Catcher in the Rye." I still wish I'd been able to dodge that bullet, but it is the 1st of 15 books I need to read for ONE FREAKING CLASS!
Wow. 214 pages of privileged, aimless teen angst wrapped up in one lousy weekend.
WHY was this required reading for so many of you - and how did you get through it?
Okay, paper number four of the day....let's go.
Now I'm simply overwhelmed.
LOTS to read. Lots to write. And they're throwing me head first into the tutoring pool. (Which reminds me of the cartoon of the dog sticking his head out of the car window, bragging to another dog, "I'm going to the vet to be tutored.")
Oh! And get this...some scrawny little 20-something remarked that she felt so OLD compared to the other students.
And...and!...AND!...this other KID (I know I'll need to stop ranting about this soon) spoke with all his worldly wisdom on something about which he's COMPLETELY IGNORANT!
And this other person WON'T... STOP... TALKING TO ME! I'll call them "Sunny." Just as a homophone for someone else who provided me with inane chatter.
Notes, essays, reaction papers and annotated bibliographies...that's what Blue (above) has crinkled on his way to catnap land...and what I still have to do.
I don't know HOW I ever got through any of my prior education without reading "The Catcher in the Rye." I still wish I'd been able to dodge that bullet, but it is the 1st of 15 books I need to read for ONE FREAKING CLASS!
Wow. 214 pages of privileged, aimless teen angst wrapped up in one lousy weekend.
WHY was this required reading for so many of you - and how did you get through it?
Okay, paper number four of the day....let's go.
Monday, August 20, 2007
And Awaaaaaay We GO!
10 Minutes before I leave for my first day of school. I'm only slightly nervous. I've made my lunch, packed my books, have my schedule--I'm ready to go.
Just thought I'd pop in here for a word or two.
HUGE life changes in the last 30 days.
There's a 'back-to-school' smell and chill in the air that means Fall is approaching. I don't like Fall that much, though it does offer me glimpses of my favorite color.
I broke down and bought a thermal lunch bag. I'd been eyeing the "Princess" lunch bag--pink with vertical stripes and a little princess crown near the handle. But in my mind's eye it was more black than pink. When I went back to buy it, even I thought it was too pink and guaranteed to get me beat up at recess.
That doesn't happen in college does it?
My lunch is peanut butter and strawberry jelly -- is that too cliche? -- and a couple granola bars.
My back-to-school garb is Hawaiian shirt, jeans and sandals -- is that too cliche?
Maybe I should pack a beer too.
Just thought I'd pop in here for a word or two.
HUGE life changes in the last 30 days.
There's a 'back-to-school' smell and chill in the air that means Fall is approaching. I don't like Fall that much, though it does offer me glimpses of my favorite color.
I broke down and bought a thermal lunch bag. I'd been eyeing the "Princess" lunch bag--pink with vertical stripes and a little princess crown near the handle. But in my mind's eye it was more black than pink. When I went back to buy it, even I thought it was too pink and guaranteed to get me beat up at recess.
That doesn't happen in college does it?
My lunch is peanut butter and strawberry jelly -- is that too cliche? -- and a couple granola bars.
My back-to-school garb is Hawaiian shirt, jeans and sandals -- is that too cliche?
Maybe I should pack a beer too.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Wow - Heavy Stuff and Lil' Friskies
I really MUST find a job.
About eleven years ago, when I was a florist, some very dear friends pestered me to get a REAL job. You know, the kind with holidays and benefits and the like. Button shirts, ties, shoes that hurt my feet and clothes that require ironing really are not my style - but I did as they had pressured me and got a real job. And as much as I may have resented that (a little) in the back of my mind, if I had not, we would not be doing what we're doing today. So thank you my dear, dear friends for that - because . . .
We close today on a few acres of wooded land near artsy-fartsy Berkley Springs, W.V. After closing, we're going to the property and do a happy dance. This is to be our final homestead. Our Camelot. Our walk-around-naked-and-pee-in-the-yard place. So, now more than ever before, it's the first day of the rest of our lives.
I have another friend who has access to a goodly amount of money, which he fritters away on entertainment. He looks at me and Mike and with befuddlement because we have much, much less, yet we're happy. And, actually, I feel that we are much better off--No savings, no retirement, no job, but we have each other.
How do you measure your quality of life?
As we walk through this day, increasing our financial burden (even more) in pursuit of the American dream, we're content. We joke about having to cultivate a taste for cat food later in life. (So if we start nibbling a little now...?)
About eleven years ago, when I was a florist, some very dear friends pestered me to get a REAL job. You know, the kind with holidays and benefits and the like. Button shirts, ties, shoes that hurt my feet and clothes that require ironing really are not my style - but I did as they had pressured me and got a real job. And as much as I may have resented that (a little) in the back of my mind, if I had not, we would not be doing what we're doing today. So thank you my dear, dear friends for that - because . . .
We close today on a few acres of wooded land near artsy-fartsy Berkley Springs, W.V. After closing, we're going to the property and do a happy dance. This is to be our final homestead. Our Camelot. Our walk-around-naked-and-pee-in-the-yard place. So, now more than ever before, it's the first day of the rest of our lives.
I have another friend who has access to a goodly amount of money, which he fritters away on entertainment. He looks at me and Mike and with befuddlement because we have much, much less, yet we're happy. And, actually, I feel that we are much better off--No savings, no retirement, no job, but we have each other.
How do you measure your quality of life?
As we walk through this day, increasing our financial burden (even more) in pursuit of the American dream, we're content. We joke about having to cultivate a taste for cat food later in life. (So if we start nibbling a little now...?)
Friday, July 27, 2007
So Long and Thanks for All the Boobies
I started typing this morning, waxing philosophical about the end of a personal era, first day of the rest of my life, and blah blah blah.
But that would be NO FUN to read at all.
SO - Train People . . . what have I forgotten?
And you outsiders, if you'd like me to explain any of this, send a note, but there's no way to explain EVERY LAST thing...
Highlights of 2.5 years of train commuting.
Aquaman - He'd had a bit too much (a lot too much) to drink before he got on the train, poured water on himself on the train, looked as if peed himself (but didn't really), caused people to think he was going to die.
The time we convinced two cute college girls to be so extremely interested in me just to cause Skidmark to have a conniption.
When we invented the word PAHL (pronounced 'paul') - which means ignorant.
Too many shots at a number of happy hours.
The time one person got so very drunk and started groping people on the Metro.
Juice nights - a big batch of left over liqour in a cooler with a hint of flavoring.
When I turned on the charm to attract a female, just to show I had more game than someone else. "But Chuck, you don't even LIKE girls!"
The slow motion spiraling shower of beer onto the four guys in the corner.
Joke of the day!
When Fez would look left and right and lower his voice before whispering "Penis."
The oh so forward sexual advances of a number of females.
$50 dollars for every time I have to tell the spouse of a commuter "I don't know."
The surreptitious advances of a handful of males.
Waltzing with Chris.
Kissing the girls.
The Great Race of Brunswick.
Spikey-blonde-haired bitter bible bitch.
Acknowledgement of So Do Ku mastery.
Beer, beer, beer.
Boobies, boobies, boobies. (Who needs 'em?)
Fox News.
Knitting for friends.
The beer bottle trick that makes the boys squirm.
The tongue trick that makes the girls squirm.
Camaraderie.
The Ball Gag.
Ann's color commentary.
The Train Names - Fatal Attraction, Ultra-Donkey, Goldilocks, Man Hands, Girl Chris, Boy Chris, Tattoo Chris, Wine Kelly a.k. Blonde Kelly, SS, Fez, Skidmark, Doogie, Teflon Don, Firewall, GMC Truck Guy, Runs-Like-A-Girl, Business Suit Guy, Banana Guy, Subject Matter Expert, Griz/Hagrid, Labia, Mister Slave, Apple Bottom, Frat Boy, Kennedy, Clown Butt a.k.a. Man from Behind, The Broad, Pitty Pat a.k.a. Jamaica Pat, The Cooking Channel, Eye Candy, KY, . . .
When I stumped a politician on the same-sex marriage issue.
Heat Restrictions.
Ugly, scary and endless baby pictures (UGH.)
Henry's weather announcement.
The Llamacidal Maniac.
The many reasons that Skidmark's gay.
The woman who told me I needed sensitivity training.
The Fart Machine.
But that would be NO FUN to read at all.
SO - Train People . . . what have I forgotten?
And you outsiders, if you'd like me to explain any of this, send a note, but there's no way to explain EVERY LAST thing...
Highlights of 2.5 years of train commuting.
Aquaman - He'd had a bit too much (a lot too much) to drink before he got on the train, poured water on himself on the train, looked as if peed himself (but didn't really), caused people to think he was going to die.
The time we convinced two cute college girls to be so extremely interested in me just to cause Skidmark to have a conniption.
When we invented the word PAHL (pronounced 'paul') - which means ignorant.
Too many shots at a number of happy hours.
The time one person got so very drunk and started groping people on the Metro.
Juice nights - a big batch of left over liqour in a cooler with a hint of flavoring.
When I turned on the charm to attract a female, just to show I had more game than someone else. "But Chuck, you don't even LIKE girls!"
The slow motion spiraling shower of beer onto the four guys in the corner.
Joke of the day!
When Fez would look left and right and lower his voice before whispering "Penis."
The oh so forward sexual advances of a number of females.
$50 dollars for every time I have to tell the spouse of a commuter "I don't know."
The surreptitious advances of a handful of males.
Waltzing with Chris.
Kissing the girls.
The Great Race of Brunswick.
Spikey-blonde-haired bitter bible bitch.
Acknowledgement of So Do Ku mastery.
Beer, beer, beer.
Boobies, boobies, boobies. (Who needs 'em?)
Fox News.
Knitting for friends.
The beer bottle trick that makes the boys squirm.
The tongue trick that makes the girls squirm.
Camaraderie.
The Ball Gag.
Ann's color commentary.
The Train Names - Fatal Attraction, Ultra-Donkey, Goldilocks, Man Hands, Girl Chris, Boy Chris, Tattoo Chris, Wine Kelly a.k. Blonde Kelly, SS, Fez, Skidmark, Doogie, Teflon Don, Firewall, GMC Truck Guy, Runs-Like-A-Girl, Business Suit Guy, Banana Guy, Subject Matter Expert, Griz/Hagrid, Labia, Mister Slave, Apple Bottom, Frat Boy, Kennedy, Clown Butt a.k.a. Man from Behind, The Broad, Pitty Pat a.k.a. Jamaica Pat, The Cooking Channel, Eye Candy, KY, . . .
When I stumped a politician on the same-sex marriage issue.
Heat Restrictions.
Ugly, scary and endless baby pictures (UGH.)
Henry's weather announcement.
The Llamacidal Maniac.
The many reasons that Skidmark's gay.
The woman who told me I needed sensitivity training.
The Fart Machine.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Thanks, Mom
I still get those Cuddly hang in there Kitten prayers about Jesus, a Nigerian banker, who loves me and needs help moving money to an account in the name of a terminally ill little boy in Kansas whose touching final wish was to create an e-mail that did something really cool when you forward it to ten of your friends within five minutes or days otherwise something absolutely terrible would happen as was the case of the barely legal girls girls girls who got pregnant sniffing the perfume card in a mall parking lot where one could buy natural penis enhancers that may have already been won by the lonely Russian girl who wants to be my myspace friend only can't work the layout so you have to click through to her adult profile where my computer gets infected with a worm similar to the ones that cause inexpensive breast enhancements which, like our troops, require support in the way of adding your name and forwarding to all your friends the petition to right the terrible loss of "In God We Trust" from all of the pennies you may consider donating to my scholarship fund.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Marlboro Country
I'm walking around the house on tippy-toe and eggshells because my hubby is quitting smoking. I'm very proud of the progress he is making and to help, we've moved all the ashtrays to the front porch and have banned smoking in the house.
I do notice that I smoke less when I am home now, because I have to go outside. And, I too will follow in the footsteps of reformed smokers, but not until after my wonderful husband has returned to normal.
He's not being mean. There have been no fights or huge disagreements. He's just focused on the cigarettes he's NOT having. I'll get the usual kiss when I come home from work, but instead of sensing "I love you," the message I read is "I could be smoking now."
The only thing I know to do is stay out of his way. So, I slip upstairs and knit in front of the cartoons until it's time for bed. Occasionally I venture back through the house to the kitchen for a beer and whisper a nervous but supportive "I love you" or blow a kiss if I pass near, but my eyes betray my fear "He's going to kill me in my sleep."
His lips automatically form "I love you, too." but his eyes ask "Where's the ammo?" And I escape back to the Cartoon Network.
We have had a couple conversations about our quitting process. We understand that there are going to be some INTENSE situations resulting from our severe behavior modification. So we've come up with a code word. Lllover. You have to drag (not roll) the L when you say it..."I'm going to watch cartoons, Lllover.
When used by him it means:
I love you. Your mere presence grates on my very last nerve.
If you're doing something annoying - All of my patience normally displayed in this situation has been sacrificed to focus on not smoking.
If you're NOT doing something annoying - You're just in my sphere of discontent.
I will love you when this is all over.
When used by me:
I love you. Your mere presence grates on my very last nerve.
I'm trying to be very supportive and loving here - and realize that to keep from shooting you myself - I need to be in another room.
I will love you when this is all over.
Remember this when I am quitting.
Oh boy, I'm not looking forward to my turn. Where he is passively, silently brooding, I'm actively evil and calculating. I hope he can endure.
I figure a great time for me to begin my quitting process is my first week away from the office. No longer will I have the familiar routine of a smoke
walking to the train
before boarding the train,
deboarding the train,
after the Metro
with 10:00 coffee
on the way to lunch
back from lunch
with 2:00 coffee
before the Metro
before boarding the train,
walking home
before dinner
after dinner and
a few while watching TV.
So, as my routine will change drastically, it's a good time to quit, don't you think?
I do notice that I smoke less when I am home now, because I have to go outside. And, I too will follow in the footsteps of reformed smokers, but not until after my wonderful husband has returned to normal.
He's not being mean. There have been no fights or huge disagreements. He's just focused on the cigarettes he's NOT having. I'll get the usual kiss when I come home from work, but instead of sensing "I love you," the message I read is "I could be smoking now."
The only thing I know to do is stay out of his way. So, I slip upstairs and knit in front of the cartoons until it's time for bed. Occasionally I venture back through the house to the kitchen for a beer and whisper a nervous but supportive "I love you" or blow a kiss if I pass near, but my eyes betray my fear "He's going to kill me in my sleep."
His lips automatically form "I love you, too." but his eyes ask "Where's the ammo?" And I escape back to the Cartoon Network.
We have had a couple conversations about our quitting process. We understand that there are going to be some INTENSE situations resulting from our severe behavior modification. So we've come up with a code word. Lllover. You have to drag (not roll) the L when you say it..."I'm going to watch cartoons, Lllover.
When used by him it means:
I love you. Your mere presence grates on my very last nerve.
If you're doing something annoying - All of my patience normally displayed in this situation has been sacrificed to focus on not smoking.
If you're NOT doing something annoying - You're just in my sphere of discontent.
I will love you when this is all over.
When used by me:
I love you. Your mere presence grates on my very last nerve.
I'm trying to be very supportive and loving here - and realize that to keep from shooting you myself - I need to be in another room.
I will love you when this is all over.
Remember this when I am quitting.
Oh boy, I'm not looking forward to my turn. Where he is passively, silently brooding, I'm actively evil and calculating. I hope he can endure.
I figure a great time for me to begin my quitting process is my first week away from the office. No longer will I have the familiar routine of a smoke
walking to the train
before boarding the train,
deboarding the train,
after the Metro
with 10:00 coffee
on the way to lunch
back from lunch
with 2:00 coffee
before the Metro
before boarding the train,
walking home
before dinner
after dinner and
a few while watching TV.
So, as my routine will change drastically, it's a good time to quit, don't you think?
Friday, June 29, 2007
Consistent Customer Service
To the Intercontinental Hotels Group Guest Centre
Someone speaking for your establishment has found fault with my attitude and I'd appreciate your assistance in my education regarding this matter. I am not sure that I have the correct e-mail address for this sort of letter, so in addition, I will be posting this inquiry on various Internet sites while awaiting a response.
The morning of June 24th, after a wonderful evening touring Alexandria, Virginia, I and my friends had been looking forward to joining a number of others for breakfast at "Chequers" in the Crown Plaza Old Town, formerly the Radisson (901 N Fairfax Street, Alexandria, VA 22314).
Because we knew it would be a large gathering, the hotel had been thoughtfully informed, weeks in advance, that our group of 20 or so would be arriving for breakfast at 9 a.m.
Arriving fashionably late, around 9:15, I thought nothing of our passing ungreeted through the lobby to ascend the steps to the restaurant. I'm sure the people at the desk were doing something infinitely more important and it is probably not a policy to smile and greet guests as they pass.
Neither did I give more than a passing thought at the time to the woman at the restaurant desk who also failed to look up, make inquiry or even acknowledge our presence as we paused before deciding to simply continue unguided into the restaurant proper.
I scanned the room and moved toward our party, catching the eye of the only visible waiter along the way, indicating that we were joining the group.
The waiter quickly assisted in helping us pull more tables into a row, poured us coffee and disappeared.
We sat chatting for a while with our friends, occasionally looking up fruitlessly to see if the waiter would be returning soon, perhaps with menus, some sort of breakfast buffet information, or even a glass of water.
Our friends became equally baffled by his absence and assumed that perhaps the breakfast buffet was the only source of nourishment. How much did it cost? Who knew? How do we indicate we'd like something? We didn't know and remained helplessly abandoned.
Acting on the assumption that the breakfast buffet was the only way we could eat, we risked moving to the line to view what was offered and actually reached for a plate before noticing large, heated bins of nothing but scraps and crumbs of food that indicated what had at one time occupied the bins. We were not alone.
People, both from our party and complete strangers, stood patiently, hungrily and hopefully with their empty plates, giving the establishment the benefit of the doubt that soon someone would come and restock.
It was a pitiful sight, really. Almost like the orphans in Dickins' Oliver Twist -- "You want more?!" I say "almost" because we hadn't had any yet. We didn't want 'more,' we wanted 'some.'
I decided to look for someone, anyone, who might have any information for us. The waiter was still missing and the woman I'd originally passed at the the restaurant desk had also escaped to perhaps the same place. Apparently, it was only the two of them providing this abundant void of service.
I thought luck was with me, however, because in my search for service, I did find a breakfast menu on a ledge that indicated alternatives to the breakfast buffet. With my trophy in hand and the prospect of an omelette in my mind, I passed back through the buffet area and the waiting crowd of people who were eagerly circling a mournfully small plate of French toast sticks that had just arrived via the restaurant desk woman.
Ah! There she is. She seemed a bit harried, but acknowledged my indication that I would need the assistance of "the" waiter. I then returned to the table to await his reappearance. And wait. And wait. And wait.
By the time he did return to our table, I was greatly disgruntled and unwilling to try to extract any kind of service from the establishment. Given my experience thus far, how long after ordering food would it arrive? I wasn't willing to risk further disappointment.
My two friends with whom I'd arrived had, however, nibbled from the breakfast buffet and were obligated to make payment. So they returned and waited at the vacant restaurant desk to pay.
And waited. And waited.
Not wanting to leave an unpaid burden, they descended to the hotel front desk and spoke with J. Simms, who claimed no responsibility for the restaurant and offered absolutely no assistance. When asked if he could locate someone to take payment, he responded, "I don't like your attitude."
My friends were politely asking for assistance and trying to make honest payment for partaking of a poorly stocked breakfast bar and absolutely no hint of customer service and the front desk person doesn't like our attitude?
To summarize:
The hotel knew of our arrival in advance, yet still the restaurant was negligent and understaffed.
The breakfast buffet was a wasteland of orts.
The hostess or cashier acted as neither and can only be called the unresponsive woman at (or absent from) the restaurant desk.
The desk clerk was unhelpful and accusatory.
In all my worldly travels, I don't believe that I have ever encountered such a lack of service in the field of customer hospitality.
Considering that "InterContinental Hotels Group is dedicated to providing consistent customer services," please forgive my ignorance in asking what kind of attitude should we have cultivated from our experience at your establishment?
You can respond directly to me at poizniv@gmail.com or post your comments under this same letter at my Web log (blog), www.just-chuck.blogspot.com .
Thank you for your thoughtful response,
Chuck Walker
Someone speaking for your establishment has found fault with my attitude and I'd appreciate your assistance in my education regarding this matter. I am not sure that I have the correct e-mail address for this sort of letter, so in addition, I will be posting this inquiry on various Internet sites while awaiting a response.
The morning of June 24th, after a wonderful evening touring Alexandria, Virginia, I and my friends had been looking forward to joining a number of others for breakfast at "Chequers" in the Crown Plaza Old Town, formerly the Radisson (901 N Fairfax Street, Alexandria, VA 22314).
Because we knew it would be a large gathering, the hotel had been thoughtfully informed, weeks in advance, that our group of 20 or so would be arriving for breakfast at 9 a.m.
Arriving fashionably late, around 9:15, I thought nothing of our passing ungreeted through the lobby to ascend the steps to the restaurant. I'm sure the people at the desk were doing something infinitely more important and it is probably not a policy to smile and greet guests as they pass.
Neither did I give more than a passing thought at the time to the woman at the restaurant desk who also failed to look up, make inquiry or even acknowledge our presence as we paused before deciding to simply continue unguided into the restaurant proper.
I scanned the room and moved toward our party, catching the eye of the only visible waiter along the way, indicating that we were joining the group.
The waiter quickly assisted in helping us pull more tables into a row, poured us coffee and disappeared.
We sat chatting for a while with our friends, occasionally looking up fruitlessly to see if the waiter would be returning soon, perhaps with menus, some sort of breakfast buffet information, or even a glass of water.
Our friends became equally baffled by his absence and assumed that perhaps the breakfast buffet was the only source of nourishment. How much did it cost? Who knew? How do we indicate we'd like something? We didn't know and remained helplessly abandoned.
Acting on the assumption that the breakfast buffet was the only way we could eat, we risked moving to the line to view what was offered and actually reached for a plate before noticing large, heated bins of nothing but scraps and crumbs of food that indicated what had at one time occupied the bins. We were not alone.
People, both from our party and complete strangers, stood patiently, hungrily and hopefully with their empty plates, giving the establishment the benefit of the doubt that soon someone would come and restock.
It was a pitiful sight, really. Almost like the orphans in Dickins' Oliver Twist -- "You want more?!" I say "almost" because we hadn't had any yet. We didn't want 'more,' we wanted 'some.'
I decided to look for someone, anyone, who might have any information for us. The waiter was still missing and the woman I'd originally passed at the the restaurant desk had also escaped to perhaps the same place. Apparently, it was only the two of them providing this abundant void of service.
I thought luck was with me, however, because in my search for service, I did find a breakfast menu on a ledge that indicated alternatives to the breakfast buffet. With my trophy in hand and the prospect of an omelette in my mind, I passed back through the buffet area and the waiting crowd of people who were eagerly circling a mournfully small plate of French toast sticks that had just arrived via the restaurant desk woman.
Ah! There she is. She seemed a bit harried, but acknowledged my indication that I would need the assistance of "the" waiter. I then returned to the table to await his reappearance. And wait. And wait. And wait.
By the time he did return to our table, I was greatly disgruntled and unwilling to try to extract any kind of service from the establishment. Given my experience thus far, how long after ordering food would it arrive? I wasn't willing to risk further disappointment.
My two friends with whom I'd arrived had, however, nibbled from the breakfast buffet and were obligated to make payment. So they returned and waited at the vacant restaurant desk to pay.
And waited. And waited.
Not wanting to leave an unpaid burden, they descended to the hotel front desk and spoke with J. Simms, who claimed no responsibility for the restaurant and offered absolutely no assistance. When asked if he could locate someone to take payment, he responded, "I don't like your attitude."
My friends were politely asking for assistance and trying to make honest payment for partaking of a poorly stocked breakfast bar and absolutely no hint of customer service and the front desk person doesn't like our attitude?
To summarize:
The hotel knew of our arrival in advance, yet still the restaurant was negligent and understaffed.
The breakfast buffet was a wasteland of orts.
The hostess or cashier acted as neither and can only be called the unresponsive woman at (or absent from) the restaurant desk.
The desk clerk was unhelpful and accusatory.
In all my worldly travels, I don't believe that I have ever encountered such a lack of service in the field of customer hospitality.
Considering that "InterContinental Hotels Group is dedicated to providing consistent customer services," please forgive my ignorance in asking what kind of attitude should we have cultivated from our experience at your establishment?
You can respond directly to me at poizniv@gmail.com or post your comments under this same letter at my Web log (blog), www.just-chuck.blogspot.com .
Thank you for your thoughtful response,
Chuck Walker
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Wanted: Replacement Homosexual
I wouldn't say that I'm flamboyant, (perhaps others will say that for me) and I'm not sure one could tell just by looking at me that I'm gay. Although a thespian, I'm not what one would call "straight-acting" (but I have played one on stage). I'm just your normal homosexual.
One time a woman I know from the train was throwing a holiday party at her home and was happily insistent that I attend. "Chuck, you have to come to my party! I won't take no for an answer."
"Sure," I said "can I bring my husband?"
"I don't care!" She announced, waving her drink, "Bring your wife."
Okay, we've established that she was drinking. So I'm not surprised she confused the noun gender or even that she forgot about the whole conversation, which was repeated - almost verbatim - twice more in the weeks approaching her shindig. What does surprise me is that after polite conversation with my husband at the party she turned to a mutual friend, "I didn't know Chuck was gay!"
How could she NOT know?
Later, that same month, I was determined to be out of the commuter parking lot before the man who normally holds that position. I wore a loose tank top, shorts and hiking boots for the sprint. It was quite an event, (enough for another entry) and many of the commuters on the train pressed against the window to watch.
Guy-1 commented that "He," he said, meaning me, "looks kinda gay dressed like that." and when another rider quickly confirmed, "You didn't know?" it pretty much changed the dynamics of our future conversations.
Once Guy-1 knew I was gay, anything he'd say that could possibly (in his head) be misconstrued as having even the slightest interest in the queer nation, had to be immediately followed with a nervous assurance "But I'm not gay."
"Hi, Chuck. I'm not gay."
"Okay, Guy-1."
I've had to constantly reassure him that I'm happily married, he's not my type BECAUSE he's straight, I have no interest--how many times and ways can I express that I'm not going to jump him when he least expects it?
When people know you're gay - they'll act and react in a variety of ways - complete comfort, morbid curiosity, violence, hidden interest, fear, indifference, secret camaraderie, condemnation, etc. -- a list as long and diverse as there are people.
Overwhelmingly, though, it's men who are the most uncomfortable.
Guy-2 used to press himself as close to the wall as he could when I passed down the narrow train aisle. "Hey, hey! Not too close, huh? I'm not like that!"
I started doing the same thing when he had to pass. "Hey! Keep your distance. I'm not straight and I don't want to catch it. Just keep moving. No means no!"
Do they believe that because they are so (in their minds) incredibly attractive, homosexuals couldn't keep control in such close proximity and would immediately attack? Are they insecure within themselves? Is their perspective only a demonized stereotype?
"Well, Chuck, how should I know? I don't know any gay people."
Yes, you do! You are surrounded by homosexuals - the topic just doesn't come up. Some people take great precautions to keep closeted because they fear repercussion from ignorant people. But look around you! They say one in ten people is gay. That means it's a good bet that 10% of the people you know is - you know what. And if you know what, then you know gay people. At the office, at the bank, at the bar-you just don't know that they're gay because they don't play the stereotyped, demonized role that you get from movies and pulpits.
It bothers me some people can be just plain ignorant and it bothers me that some people choose to remain closeted in fear of those ignorant people. How else will the ignorant people learn?
Here's what I do -- be myself. I know that there is a very real threat, but I'm a confident, comfortably out homosexual in a very public setting, and because of this, I have helped to change some minds about gays -- even Guy-1 and Guy-2. And that's a start.
I'm not going to be on the commuter train for much longer - so, we need someone else to step forward and be the token homosexual. How else will they learn? Please apply in person, 2nd car from the end, upper level, bring beer and a joke of the day - but don't be too good looking or witty - I need you to pale in comparison to the memory of me.
One time a woman I know from the train was throwing a holiday party at her home and was happily insistent that I attend. "Chuck, you have to come to my party! I won't take no for an answer."
"Sure," I said "can I bring my husband?"
"I don't care!" She announced, waving her drink, "Bring your wife."
Okay, we've established that she was drinking. So I'm not surprised she confused the noun gender or even that she forgot about the whole conversation, which was repeated - almost verbatim - twice more in the weeks approaching her shindig. What does surprise me is that after polite conversation with my husband at the party she turned to a mutual friend, "I didn't know Chuck was gay!"
How could she NOT know?
Later, that same month, I was determined to be out of the commuter parking lot before the man who normally holds that position. I wore a loose tank top, shorts and hiking boots for the sprint. It was quite an event, (enough for another entry) and many of the commuters on the train pressed against the window to watch.
Guy-1 commented that "He," he said, meaning me, "looks kinda gay dressed like that." and when another rider quickly confirmed, "You didn't know?" it pretty much changed the dynamics of our future conversations.
Once Guy-1 knew I was gay, anything he'd say that could possibly (in his head) be misconstrued as having even the slightest interest in the queer nation, had to be immediately followed with a nervous assurance "But I'm not gay."
"Hi, Chuck. I'm not gay."
"Okay, Guy-1."
I've had to constantly reassure him that I'm happily married, he's not my type BECAUSE he's straight, I have no interest--how many times and ways can I express that I'm not going to jump him when he least expects it?
When people know you're gay - they'll act and react in a variety of ways - complete comfort, morbid curiosity, violence, hidden interest, fear, indifference, secret camaraderie, condemnation, etc. -- a list as long and diverse as there are people.
Overwhelmingly, though, it's men who are the most uncomfortable.
Guy-2 used to press himself as close to the wall as he could when I passed down the narrow train aisle. "Hey, hey! Not too close, huh? I'm not like that!"
I started doing the same thing when he had to pass. "Hey! Keep your distance. I'm not straight and I don't want to catch it. Just keep moving. No means no!"
Do they believe that because they are so (in their minds) incredibly attractive, homosexuals couldn't keep control in such close proximity and would immediately attack? Are they insecure within themselves? Is their perspective only a demonized stereotype?
"Well, Chuck, how should I know? I don't know any gay people."
Yes, you do! You are surrounded by homosexuals - the topic just doesn't come up. Some people take great precautions to keep closeted because they fear repercussion from ignorant people. But look around you! They say one in ten people is gay. That means it's a good bet that 10% of the people you know is - you know what. And if you know what, then you know gay people. At the office, at the bank, at the bar-you just don't know that they're gay because they don't play the stereotyped, demonized role that you get from movies and pulpits.
It bothers me some people can be just plain ignorant and it bothers me that some people choose to remain closeted in fear of those ignorant people. How else will the ignorant people learn?
Here's what I do -- be myself. I know that there is a very real threat, but I'm a confident, comfortably out homosexual in a very public setting, and because of this, I have helped to change some minds about gays -- even Guy-1 and Guy-2. And that's a start.
I'm not going to be on the commuter train for much longer - so, we need someone else to step forward and be the token homosexual. How else will they learn? Please apply in person, 2nd car from the end, upper level, bring beer and a joke of the day - but don't be too good looking or witty - I need you to pale in comparison to the memory of me.
Friday, June 15, 2007
College Expen$e$ so Far
Not counting living expenses - The total Fall 2007 College fees and tuitions (So far)is - $2,980.25Total C.W. Scholarship Donations + $1,050.35 (Thank you!)
Total University Scholarship + $464.00
Left to pay by August 13th - $1,465.90
() Do all those loose pennies in the bottom of your purse make it harder to find your keys?
() Do you have too many coins in your car ashtray or cupholder?
() Is there an ugly, unwieldly change jar taking up space in your home?
() Are you plagued with a sweaty and uncomfortably heavy amount of pocket change at the end of your workday?
Let me take those awful, nasty, ugly, sweaty, sticky, dirty coins off your hands.
Or, if you're itching to spend some of that tax refund, LOOK NO FURTHER ! You can send a donation to anyone with an e-mail address. Click on the PayPal Icon over there on the right and send a pittance to poizniv@gmail.com
Where will it go?
$35.00 College Application Fee
$100.00 Tuition Deposit
$125.00 Advisement and Registration fee
$45.00 Campus Parking decal
$18.75 Used Book
$18.75 Used Book
$7.50 Used Book
$9.75 Used Book
$9.75 Used Book
$14.25 Used Book
$34.50 Used Book
$45.00 Used Book
$335 (5) New Books
$2,282.00 Fall Tuition (Minus $100 deposit above)
$??,???.00 Living expenses
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Diving into or Going Over the Deep End Today
I never really thought about how big a day today is or how tense or stressed I might be, but apparently my subconscious was all over it.
I dreamt a LOT last night.
It was all very Anime. Escher-like college building constructs that were fraught with danger--steep inclines, water hazards, sheer drops--that all impeded any sort of smooth traversing. Islands that floated in the air were kept tethered to the Earth by chains and kept dropping boulders.
"That Woman" (if I may borrow from A.C. Doyle) was an ever elusive prey. If one were to interpret dreams, this would be the person who had the power to make everything go smoothly, but was never available, difficult to identify, heavily guarded and always saw me coming.
I'd been after the college for months to let me talk to someone - anyone - I have questions, I have special needs. I'm not a clueless teen. I'm a non-traditional student.
Okay, I'm an anal-retentive, old fart who has done my homework.
Taking what I know has transfered - I know what I need to take.
Take the list of what's being offered in the fall
Subtract anything extraneous or must be taken after some prerequisites.
Now the hard part - build a schedule from the pitifully few that remain.
I'd prefer a full 18 credit, MWF schedule, so I could still work a flexible job.
Two courses are only offered at one time, so I have to build around those.
There are next to no good Lit courses offered, and...and...and...
Long story, less long - I have my 'dream' schedule - and I've been watching those classes fill up for weeks and weeks.
Turned away at every request, I'm sure I've been a nagging, simpering, begging pest.
Now today - a complete stranger will look at my file for the first time and puzzle all that out for me? I don't think so.
I'm torn. Should I just sit at the advising table, wasting valuable time as someone else takes that last available seat in Survey of the Exceptional Child -- getting the bored I'd-rather-be-golfing-but-am-doing-you-an-extreme-favor look and listen to their lecture ...
or
...Should I hand them my nicely printed schedule with the current enrollment numbers and say between gritted teeth,
"Listen, buddy," I'll say, grabbing the sweet-smelling grandmotherly lady by her frilly lapel, "you don't know me and I don't know you, but you have something I need and you're going to give it to me."
Frantic - she tries to maintain the delaying tactic "Now, young man, if you'll just take a . . ."
"THE ALTERNATE PIN ! WHAT IS IT?" Beads of sweat roll down my spine as I see in periphery a bookish looking transfer student head to the registration computer.
Wildly looking left and right for some kind of savior "But, you'll have to . . ."
"THERE'S . . . NO . . . TIME !" I punctuate each word with a slap across the face and pull her up to eye level "Do you see that man over there? LOOK AT HIM ! In all liklihood he is, at this VERY MINUTE" my voice rises "taking the last seat in a class I NEED!" I drop my voice to a whisper "And if you think I'm being ugly now, by God, just you wait 'til I have to come back for an override form. Now," I say, straightening her collar, "give me the alternate pin."
"Here, here it is." She whimpers, reaching into the skirt pocket next to her ample bosom. "555555! Is that what you want?! TAKE IT! I've always hated advising days." She cries.
But her face, her fear and her tears are already forgotten. I have what I came for, what I've been searching for for months. The pin number that will allow me to register.
And now only one thing stands in my way - students whose last names come before mine alphabetically.
NOOOOOO ! ! ! ! !
I dreamt a LOT last night.
It was all very Anime. Escher-like college building constructs that were fraught with danger--steep inclines, water hazards, sheer drops--that all impeded any sort of smooth traversing. Islands that floated in the air were kept tethered to the Earth by chains and kept dropping boulders.
"That Woman" (if I may borrow from A.C. Doyle) was an ever elusive prey. If one were to interpret dreams, this would be the person who had the power to make everything go smoothly, but was never available, difficult to identify, heavily guarded and always saw me coming.
I'd been after the college for months to let me talk to someone - anyone - I have questions, I have special needs. I'm not a clueless teen. I'm a non-traditional student.
Okay, I'm an anal-retentive, old fart who has done my homework.
Taking what I know has transfered - I know what I need to take.
Take the list of what's being offered in the fall
Subtract anything extraneous or must be taken after some prerequisites.
Now the hard part - build a schedule from the pitifully few that remain.
I'd prefer a full 18 credit, MWF schedule, so I could still work a flexible job.
Two courses are only offered at one time, so I have to build around those.
There are next to no good Lit courses offered, and...and...and...
Long story, less long - I have my 'dream' schedule - and I've been watching those classes fill up for weeks and weeks.
Turned away at every request, I'm sure I've been a nagging, simpering, begging pest.
Now today - a complete stranger will look at my file for the first time and puzzle all that out for me? I don't think so.
I'm torn. Should I just sit at the advising table, wasting valuable time as someone else takes that last available seat in Survey of the Exceptional Child -- getting the bored I'd-rather-be-golfing-but-am-doing-you-an-extreme-favor look and listen to their lecture ...
or
...Should I hand them my nicely printed schedule with the current enrollment numbers and say between gritted teeth,
"Listen, buddy," I'll say, grabbing the sweet-smelling grandmotherly lady by her frilly lapel, "you don't know me and I don't know you, but you have something I need and you're going to give it to me."
Frantic - she tries to maintain the delaying tactic "Now, young man, if you'll just take a . . ."
"THE ALTERNATE PIN ! WHAT IS IT?" Beads of sweat roll down my spine as I see in periphery a bookish looking transfer student head to the registration computer.
Wildly looking left and right for some kind of savior "But, you'll have to . . ."
"THERE'S . . . NO . . . TIME !" I punctuate each word with a slap across the face and pull her up to eye level "Do you see that man over there? LOOK AT HIM ! In all liklihood he is, at this VERY MINUTE" my voice rises "taking the last seat in a class I NEED!" I drop my voice to a whisper "And if you think I'm being ugly now, by God, just you wait 'til I have to come back for an override form. Now," I say, straightening her collar, "give me the alternate pin."
"Here, here it is." She whimpers, reaching into the skirt pocket next to her ample bosom. "555555! Is that what you want?! TAKE IT! I've always hated advising days." She cries.
But her face, her fear and her tears are already forgotten. I have what I came for, what I've been searching for for months. The pin number that will allow me to register.
And now only one thing stands in my way - students whose last names come before mine alphabetically.
NOOOOOO ! ! ! ! !
Monday, June 11, 2007
Studies Show . . .
For those of you who thought that same sex marriages would ruin it for the rest of you, guess what?
It's not the homosexuals that'll do you in, it's the heterosexuals who shack up that's ruining it for you.
But let me toss in another 'guess what.' It's improving the divorce rate!
The 'sanctity' of marriage now, officially, is a moot point.
U.S. Divorce Rate Lowest Since 1970
By DAVID CRARY - AP National Writer
NEW YORK (AP) - By the numbers, divorce just isn't what it used to be.
Despite the common notion that America remains plagued by a divorce epidemic, the national per capita divorce rate has declined steadily since its peak in 1981 and is now at its lowest level since 1970.
The study above points out another 'guess what' that I can't help but aim at all the ultra-conservative, not left, extreme religion type folks -- get this, an educated and working wife actually helps stabilize the marriage.
HA ! Don't you just love it?
But wait, there's more....
If you don't want to be plagued by critical thinking, you can find a study to back up any theory and attribute it to any cause.
President Bush's nominee for surgeon general, Dr. James W. Holsinger Jr., offers another example.
16 years ago Holsinger wrote a piece about gay sex being unnatural and unhealthy. He stated "The rectum is incapable of mechanical protection against abrasion and severe damage ... can result if objects that are large, sharp or pointed are inserted into the rectum . . ."
It is my theory, that Holsinger was inspired by the very large, sharp and pointy and unlubricated pine cone that somehow became lodged in the same area of study.
THIS? is a nominee for the surgeon general?
Are we going to get a new "caution" message on the happy meal toys and razor blades? Does anyone NOT know that putting sharp, abrasive and pointy things in your body COULD cause damage?
Gimme a D!
Gimme a U!
Gimme an H!
Can we get a big "DUH !" here?
Why do you think that people trim the gerbil's nails? -- but I digress.
Okay, he's trying to make two points 1) Unhealthy and 2) Unnatural.
As for number 1, I say, I don't know what YOU are sticking up there, buddy, but if it's sharp and abrasive, I think you're not very clear on gay sex. Let me help you out with two words of advice . . . Astro Glide.
My response to 'point' number 2, homosexuality has been observed in more than 1,500 species.
Soon, I think, we'll discover that french kissing while wearing a bikini does not make you pregnant.
WHERE does Bush find these people?
It's not the homosexuals that'll do you in, it's the heterosexuals who shack up that's ruining it for you.
But let me toss in another 'guess what.' It's improving the divorce rate!
The 'sanctity' of marriage now, officially, is a moot point.
U.S. Divorce Rate Lowest Since 1970
By DAVID CRARY - AP National Writer
NEW YORK (AP) - By the numbers, divorce just isn't what it used to be.
Despite the common notion that America remains plagued by a divorce epidemic, the national per capita divorce rate has declined steadily since its peak in 1981 and is now at its lowest level since 1970.
The study above points out another 'guess what' that I can't help but aim at all the ultra-conservative, not left, extreme religion type folks -- get this, an educated and working wife actually helps stabilize the marriage.
HA ! Don't you just love it?
But wait, there's more....
If you don't want to be plagued by critical thinking, you can find a study to back up any theory and attribute it to any cause.
President Bush's nominee for surgeon general, Dr. James W. Holsinger Jr., offers another example.
16 years ago Holsinger wrote a piece about gay sex being unnatural and unhealthy. He stated "The rectum is incapable of mechanical protection against abrasion and severe damage ... can result if objects that are large, sharp or pointed are inserted into the rectum . . ."
It is my theory, that Holsinger was inspired by the very large, sharp and pointy and unlubricated pine cone that somehow became lodged in the same area of study.
THIS? is a nominee for the surgeon general?
Are we going to get a new "caution" message on the happy meal toys and razor blades? Does anyone NOT know that putting sharp, abrasive and pointy things in your body COULD cause damage?
Gimme a D!
Gimme a U!
Gimme an H!
Can we get a big "DUH !" here?
Why do you think that people trim the gerbil's nails? -- but I digress.
Okay, he's trying to make two points 1) Unhealthy and 2) Unnatural.
As for number 1, I say, I don't know what YOU are sticking up there, buddy, but if it's sharp and abrasive, I think you're not very clear on gay sex. Let me help you out with two words of advice . . . Astro Glide.
My response to 'point' number 2, homosexuality has been observed in more than 1,500 species.
Soon, I think, we'll discover that french kissing while wearing a bikini does not make you pregnant.
WHERE does Bush find these people?
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Form of Admission
While chatting with a lawyer friend this morning I discovered a new silly part of the legal system. It's called a "form of admission." On this form is a list of allegations that the person to whom it is directed must either admit or deny.
Here's the silly part--If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
So, of course, all the high school questions immediately pop into my head, i.e.,
Admit____Deny____ You still beat your wife.
If you admit it - well, shame on you. If you deny it, you're admitting that at some point you did beat your wife. If you fail to respond, it's assumed that you beat your wife.
Now consider this question...
Admit____Deny____ You support our troops.
It's been on my mind for a while now. Ever since war with Iraq had begun, the death toll began to rise and the military recruiting commercials increased in frequency. The commercials that say something along the lines of "College . . . career training . . . manhood, etc., talk to your kids about joining the military."
I'll have to admit--my thinking about this stems back before the Iraq war, to my own time in the military two decades ago - why I was there and why it disagreed with me.
I'm a non-violent person.
I don't believe that might makes right.
I don't believe in mutually assured destruction to keep the peace.
But I do know that there are many, many, many people who stand on the opposite side of the fence who will impose their will because they can. And the only reason we are not overrun by them is because we have people who will stand against them.
Without a military force or even a police force, the kinder, gentler people would be at the mercy of anyone with a stick.
So, here's the question--You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
What does that even mean: support the troops?
I wouldn't even dream of saying no, because that plasters UNAMERICAN across my forehead. A scarlet letter U that lumps me with terrorists. "You are either with us or against us" Bush has said.
Why can't it simply be "You are either with us or not?"
You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
If I say I am in support of the troops, then am I saying that I also support Bush and agree with why the troops are there? Do I support interrogation tactics? Do I support their treatment of prisoners? Do I support every bullet fired?
Admit____Deny____
Why ARE they there?
"Eleven years ago, as a condition for ending the Persian Gulf War, the Iraqi regime was required to destroy its weapons of mass destruction, to cease all development of such weapons, and to stop all support for terrorist groups. The Iraqi regime has violated all of those obligations. It possesses and produces chemical and biological weapons. It is seeking nuclear weapons. It has given shelter and support to terrorism, and practices terror against its own people. The entire world has witnessed Iraq's eleven-year history of defiance, deception and bad faith.". . ."In addition to declaring and destroying all of its weapons of mass destruction, Iraq must end its support for terrorism. It must cease the persecution of its civilian population. It must stop all illicit trade outside the Oil For Food program. It must release or account for all Gulf War personnel, including an American pilot, whose fate is still unknown." G. W. Bush - October 7, 2002
"This is not the fight we entered in Iraq, but it is the fight we're in.". . .
"We're carrying out a new strategy in Iraq -- a plan that demands more from Iraq's elected government, and gives our forces in Iraq the reinforcements they need to complete their mission. Our goal is a democratic Iraq that upholds the rule of law, respects the rights of its people, provides them security, and is an ally in the war on terror.". . ."With Iraqis in the lead, our forces will help secure the city by chasing down the terrorists, insurgents, and the roaming death squads. And in Anbar Province, where al Qaeda terrorists have gathered and local forces have begun showing a willingness to fight them, we're sending an additional 4,000 United States Marines, with orders to find the terrorists and clear them out. (Applause.) We didn't drive al Qaeda out of their safe haven in Afghanistan only to let them set up a new safe haven in a free Iraq." G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
Was Hussein's dethroning and death a preemptive strike - or was it retaliation for 9/11? In the beginning, it was played as if Hussein had direct involvement with the 9/11 terrorist attacks, but later it was simply Saddam's regime posed a risk that the world could not afford to take.
-"The United States has no right, no desire, and no intention to impose our form of government on anyone else." - G.W. Bush - February 2, 2005
but now
-"Our goal is a democratic Iraq . . ." - G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
So, do I support the troops? Admit____Deny____
How can I tell? From the reasons we were given then, or the reasons we are given now? I simply do not know. (If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.)
-9/11
-Saddam Hussein
-WMD
-al-Qaida and bin Laden.
-Zarqawi
-Democratic reform.
-Idealogical struggle.
-No honor in retreat.
-Radical Islam.
-Terrorists, insurgents and roaming death squads.
Admit____Deny____
If I say I support the troops - will it give some kind of meaning to this?
U.S. Military Deaths by month:
June-2007 - 17
May-2007 - 127
April-2007 - 104
March-2007 - 81
February-2007 - 80
January-2007 - 83
December-2006 - 112
November-2006 - 70
October-2006 - 106
September-2006 - 72
August-2006 - 65
July-2006 - 43
June-2006 - 61
May-2006 - 69
April-2006 - 76
March-2006 - 31
February-2006 - 55
January-2006 - 62
December-2005 - 68
November-2005 - 84
October-2005 - 96
September-2005 - 49
August-2005 - 85
July-2005 - 54
June-2005 - 78
May-2005 - 80
April-2005 - 52
March-2005 - 35
February-2005 - 58
January-2005 - 107
December-2004 - 72
November-2004 - 137
October-2004 - 64
September-2004 - 80
August-2004 - 66
July-2004 - 54
June-2004 - 42
May-2004 - 80
April-2004 - 135
March-2004 - 52
February-2004 - 20
January-2004 - 47
December-2003 - 40
November-2003 - 82
October-2003 - 44
September-2003 - 31
August-2003 - 35
July-2003 - 48
June-2003 - 30
May-2003 - 37
April-2003 - 74
March-2003 - 65
Total - 3495
DO I SUPPORT THE TROOPS? ! ! ! ?
ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION ! Admit____Deny____
What do you want me to say?
I am not against you.
I am for life.
I don't know enough to be with you.
I support the safe return of the troops.
You have failed to deny the allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
Here's the silly part--If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
So, of course, all the high school questions immediately pop into my head, i.e.,
Admit____Deny____ You still beat your wife.
If you admit it - well, shame on you. If you deny it, you're admitting that at some point you did beat your wife. If you fail to respond, it's assumed that you beat your wife.
Now consider this question...
Admit____Deny____ You support our troops.
It's been on my mind for a while now. Ever since war with Iraq had begun, the death toll began to rise and the military recruiting commercials increased in frequency. The commercials that say something along the lines of "College . . . career training . . . manhood, etc., talk to your kids about joining the military."
I'll have to admit--my thinking about this stems back before the Iraq war, to my own time in the military two decades ago - why I was there and why it disagreed with me.
I'm a non-violent person.
I don't believe that might makes right.
I don't believe in mutually assured destruction to keep the peace.
But I do know that there are many, many, many people who stand on the opposite side of the fence who will impose their will because they can. And the only reason we are not overrun by them is because we have people who will stand against them.
Without a military force or even a police force, the kinder, gentler people would be at the mercy of anyone with a stick.
So, here's the question--You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
What does that even mean: support the troops?
I wouldn't even dream of saying no, because that plasters UNAMERICAN across my forehead. A scarlet letter U that lumps me with terrorists. "You are either with us or against us" Bush has said.
Why can't it simply be "You are either with us or not?"
You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
If I say I am in support of the troops, then am I saying that I also support Bush and agree with why the troops are there? Do I support interrogation tactics? Do I support their treatment of prisoners? Do I support every bullet fired?
Admit____Deny____
Why ARE they there?
"Eleven years ago, as a condition for ending the Persian Gulf War, the Iraqi regime was required to destroy its weapons of mass destruction, to cease all development of such weapons, and to stop all support for terrorist groups. The Iraqi regime has violated all of those obligations. It possesses and produces chemical and biological weapons. It is seeking nuclear weapons. It has given shelter and support to terrorism, and practices terror against its own people. The entire world has witnessed Iraq's eleven-year history of defiance, deception and bad faith.". . ."In addition to declaring and destroying all of its weapons of mass destruction, Iraq must end its support for terrorism. It must cease the persecution of its civilian population. It must stop all illicit trade outside the Oil For Food program. It must release or account for all Gulf War personnel, including an American pilot, whose fate is still unknown." G. W. Bush - October 7, 2002
"This is not the fight we entered in Iraq, but it is the fight we're in.". . .
"We're carrying out a new strategy in Iraq -- a plan that demands more from Iraq's elected government, and gives our forces in Iraq the reinforcements they need to complete their mission. Our goal is a democratic Iraq that upholds the rule of law, respects the rights of its people, provides them security, and is an ally in the war on terror.". . ."With Iraqis in the lead, our forces will help secure the city by chasing down the terrorists, insurgents, and the roaming death squads. And in Anbar Province, where al Qaeda terrorists have gathered and local forces have begun showing a willingness to fight them, we're sending an additional 4,000 United States Marines, with orders to find the terrorists and clear them out. (Applause.) We didn't drive al Qaeda out of their safe haven in Afghanistan only to let them set up a new safe haven in a free Iraq." G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
Was Hussein's dethroning and death a preemptive strike - or was it retaliation for 9/11? In the beginning, it was played as if Hussein had direct involvement with the 9/11 terrorist attacks, but later it was simply Saddam's regime posed a risk that the world could not afford to take.
-"The United States has no right, no desire, and no intention to impose our form of government on anyone else." - G.W. Bush - February 2, 2005
but now
-"Our goal is a democratic Iraq . . ." - G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
So, do I support the troops? Admit____Deny____
How can I tell? From the reasons we were given then, or the reasons we are given now? I simply do not know. (If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.)
-9/11
-Saddam Hussein
-WMD
-al-Qaida and bin Laden.
-Zarqawi
-Democratic reform.
-Idealogical struggle.
-No honor in retreat.
-Radical Islam.
-Terrorists, insurgents and roaming death squads.
Admit____Deny____
If I say I support the troops - will it give some kind of meaning to this?
U.S. Military Deaths by month:
June-2007 - 17
May-2007 - 127
April-2007 - 104
March-2007 - 81
February-2007 - 80
January-2007 - 83
December-2006 - 112
November-2006 - 70
October-2006 - 106
September-2006 - 72
August-2006 - 65
July-2006 - 43
June-2006 - 61
May-2006 - 69
April-2006 - 76
March-2006 - 31
February-2006 - 55
January-2006 - 62
December-2005 - 68
November-2005 - 84
October-2005 - 96
September-2005 - 49
August-2005 - 85
July-2005 - 54
June-2005 - 78
May-2005 - 80
April-2005 - 52
March-2005 - 35
February-2005 - 58
January-2005 - 107
December-2004 - 72
November-2004 - 137
October-2004 - 64
September-2004 - 80
August-2004 - 66
July-2004 - 54
June-2004 - 42
May-2004 - 80
April-2004 - 135
March-2004 - 52
February-2004 - 20
January-2004 - 47
December-2003 - 40
November-2003 - 82
October-2003 - 44
September-2003 - 31
August-2003 - 35
July-2003 - 48
June-2003 - 30
May-2003 - 37
April-2003 - 74
March-2003 - 65
Total - 3495
DO I SUPPORT THE TROOPS? ! ! ! ?
ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION ! Admit____Deny____
What do you want me to say?
I am not against you.
I am for life.
I don't know enough to be with you.
I support the safe return of the troops.
You have failed to deny the allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
Monday, June 04, 2007
The Family Thicket
Many people place a great importance on lineage. It is my assertion that it doesn't matter where you come from, it's who you are now that is important. I guess part of my assertion comes from my difficulty in charting a family tree without utilizing extra dimensions.
My father divorced three times.
His 2nd wife married three times.
His 3rd wife divorced three times.
My mother married (I think) five times.
All but three of all the marriages combined resulted in children.
One of my sisters has three children from (I think) three men.
Two of my brothers I've never met - might have children, I dunno.
One half-sister could be a full sister - [The woman that mom claims is the father (yes, that's right) has serious doubts.]
Is this good enough for Springer?
Which gets me to my thought for today -- I wonder . . . how DO they get you on those tell-all shows, when YOU'RE the one whose dirty laundry will be aired?
If someone ever says to you "Oh, Honey, let's go see a live taping of Jerry Springer," your air raid sirens better be going full blast.
Some warning signs that you're a great candidate for a tell-all show are:
Your children all look like the milkman.
(And you're sterile.)
Your girlfriend insists on blindfolding you before nooky.
(You thought it was kinky, but have ever actually seen her naked?)
Your husband likes to water the lawn in heels.
(Claims the stillettos aerate the soil.)
You live in a trailer.
(Blanket statement here, I know - my apologies.)
Really, how does a person get on one of those shows without suspecting something?
Bait and Switch "Wait, this ain't Disneyland."
Altered concsiousness, i.e., drugs, bat, etc. "Whoa, my head. Hey. Where are we?"
Surprise "Are your eyes still closed? Just a few more steps..."
Readers, your mission is to
1-click on the comment bar below and
2-give me scenarios on how to get someone on the show
3-without them knowing what's in store for them.
My father divorced three times.
His 2nd wife married three times.
His 3rd wife divorced three times.
My mother married (I think) five times.
All but three of all the marriages combined resulted in children.
One of my sisters has three children from (I think) three men.
Two of my brothers I've never met - might have children, I dunno.
One half-sister could be a full sister - [The woman that mom claims is the father (yes, that's right) has serious doubts.]
Is this good enough for Springer?
Which gets me to my thought for today -- I wonder . . . how DO they get you on those tell-all shows, when YOU'RE the one whose dirty laundry will be aired?
If someone ever says to you "Oh, Honey, let's go see a live taping of Jerry Springer," your air raid sirens better be going full blast.
Some warning signs that you're a great candidate for a tell-all show are:
Your children all look like the milkman.
(And you're sterile.)
Your girlfriend insists on blindfolding you before nooky.
(You thought it was kinky, but have ever actually seen her naked?)
Your husband likes to water the lawn in heels.
(Claims the stillettos aerate the soil.)
You live in a trailer.
(Blanket statement here, I know - my apologies.)
Really, how does a person get on one of those shows without suspecting something?
Bait and Switch "Wait, this ain't Disneyland."
Altered concsiousness, i.e., drugs, bat, etc. "Whoa, my head. Hey. Where are we?"
Surprise "Are your eyes still closed? Just a few more steps..."
Readers, your mission is to
1-click on the comment bar below and
2-give me scenarios on how to get someone on the show
3-without them knowing what's in store for them.
Friday, June 01, 2007
10 Reasons Chuck Is Not Gay
In response to the Top 10 Reasons Skidmark's Gay, this scandalous comment and accompanying photo just came in from our reporters in the field.
For fair and ethical reporting, I present it as is without edits or rebuttal.
10 Reasons Chuck Is Not Gay
10) He does not wear pink.
9) He drinks domestic beer.
8) He likes boobies - on women.
7) He does not use hair products.
6) He does not shave anywhere.
5) He thinks that Babs is not a talented artist.
4) He listens to country music.
3) He eats at truck stops and not for the "hawt" truckers that frequent such places.
2) He doesn't own a flower shop.
and the #1 reason Chuck is not gay:
1) He spent most of his time in army bases while enlisted in the navy.
Now these ten items may not be enough to convince you, however, when the "gay" guy has groped more women on the MARC train than the collective group of heterosexual males, one has no choice other than to conclude that Chuck is NOT gay.
For fair and ethical reporting, I present it as is without edits or rebuttal.
10 Reasons Chuck Is Not Gay
10) He does not wear pink.
9) He drinks domestic beer.
8) He likes boobies - on women.
7) He does not use hair products.
6) He does not shave anywhere.
5) He thinks that Babs is not a talented artist.
4) He listens to country music.
3) He eats at truck stops and not for the "hawt" truckers that frequent such places.
2) He doesn't own a flower shop.
and the #1 reason Chuck is not gay:
1) He spent most of his time in army bases while enlisted in the navy.
Now these ten items may not be enough to convince you, however, when the "gay" guy has groped more women on the MARC train than the collective group of heterosexual males, one has no choice other than to conclude that Chuck is NOT gay.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Top Ten Reasons Skidmark's Gay
This is not an 'outing' or a message of disapproval of a lifestyle.
Because the commuters clamour for it,
and because Skidmark likes to push my buttons
here are the TOP 10 REASONS SKIDMARK'S GAY.
10) Active participation in a conversation on women's shoes.
9) He was very interested and made knowledgable contributions to a conversation regarding women's hair products.
8) He was very embarassed (perhaps even devastated) and extremely self-conscious for an entire day when he discovered his shoes didn't match his belt.
7) Hair products, hair products, hair products.
6) He squirms the most during beer bottle tricks.
5) Even his wife calls him Man Bitch, Mangina and Munt.
4) He shaves his stomach
3) He asked everyone "Can you tell I lost 6 lbs.?"
2) He's envious of the sexual habits of a gay household.
And the number one reason why Skidmark is gay:
1) At multiple times and with many witnesses, he has said "I'm gay."
Do you need more?
A) Oddly enough, he always wants to sit next to me on the train - even though I've told him "No, means No."
B) At times he's been known to put his crotch up very close to my face (ostensibly to look out the window of the seat behind us).
C) Like a bitch in heat, he's often turning his ass in my direction--presenting, if you will.
D) He likes to make small talk - endless small talk - almost like a nervous chatter - and always about nothing important. Picture shy school girl and varsity football player - "So, um, do you like chewing gum?" only his small talk is about the speed or timeliness of the train.
E) Even his wife, perhaps sensing that Skidmark needed an 'outlet,' has sold his ass to me for a cigarette.
Because the commuters clamour for it,
and because Skidmark likes to push my buttons
here are the TOP 10 REASONS SKIDMARK'S GAY.
10) Active participation in a conversation on women's shoes.9) He was very interested and made knowledgable contributions to a conversation regarding women's hair products.
8) He was very embarassed (perhaps even devastated) and extremely self-conscious for an entire day when he discovered his shoes didn't match his belt.
7) Hair products, hair products, hair products.
6) He squirms the most during beer bottle tricks.
5) Even his wife calls him Man Bitch, Mangina and Munt.
4) He shaves his stomach
3) He asked everyone "Can you tell I lost 6 lbs.?"
2) He's envious of the sexual habits of a gay household.
And the number one reason why Skidmark is gay:
1) At multiple times and with many witnesses, he has said "I'm gay."
Do you need more?
A) Oddly enough, he always wants to sit next to me on the train - even though I've told him "No, means No."
B) At times he's been known to put his crotch up very close to my face (ostensibly to look out the window of the seat behind us).
C) Like a bitch in heat, he's often turning his ass in my direction--presenting, if you will.
D) He likes to make small talk - endless small talk - almost like a nervous chatter - and always about nothing important. Picture shy school girl and varsity football player - "So, um, do you like chewing gum?" only his small talk is about the speed or timeliness of the train.
E) Even his wife, perhaps sensing that Skidmark needed an 'outlet,' has sold his ass to me for a cigarette.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Prissmas Recap
It's been a month since Prissmas. I believe we've all healed enough emotionally from the humiliating 'told-you-so's' to post an account of our annual event.Lighting the fire was much better planned this year. I'm very suprised. Lady Prisspott gathered all of the guests in a pen well enough away from the intended blaze. The Lord Prisspott was nowhere to be found. Apparently he wasn't feeling well. In hindsight, I don't think it's impossible that Lady Prisspott put something in the Lord's food to keep his disapproving stance away from our use of gasoline as an accelerant.
Wearing BDUs (battle dress uniform - camouflaged outfits) Ivy and Thorny prepared the projectiles (bottle rockets) and the long metal tube, while Hydrangea doused the burnable heap with gasoline.
Acquire the target!
Target Acquired!
Load the projectile!
Projectile Loaded!
Ignite!
It's Lit!
Shove it in!
It's in!
Confirm Target!
Target Confirmed!
Fwoosh! and .... nothing.
Repeat 11 more times - redouse with gasoline (at which point we yelled "Acquire the target!" again just to make Hydrangea nervous - then fired two more times (after Hydrangea was clear) and.....THWOOM!
Arr arr arr! - we make fire - arr arr arr!
Applause and happy dance.
On a side note, we had planned and practiced this lighting ritual in our backyard (next to the firehouse) before actually attempting it. We were a little bit nervous about the safety of this experiment. We also had a firefighter at Prissmas. (We'd invited her, then realized "Oh crap! She's a firefighter - will she rain on our parade?")
By far it was the ugliest Prissmas tree ever. We really outdid ourselves. I do believe it was the biggest bonfire ever too. How very cathartic. We burned lots of stuff. The 'ladies' brought a box of things that MUST be burned. Sort of a letting go type thing. Unrequited love letters, ransom notes, compromising photos and the like. If it can be burned, it never happened.
The two sets of Prisspops were a big hit too. Individually packaged and colorfully labeled they fit the requirements: looks yummy, taste like poo. Don't take my word for it, just look at these satisfied customers.
At the opposite end of the edible spectrum, the dessert burritos we cooked in the bonfire took a feat of courage. Even though the talented Lady Prisspott had welded some very nice platforms on poles, still the fire was too hot to get close enough to insert, flip and retrieve while keeping your eyebrows. Plus there was no temperature control. So you didn't know when it was done. (Mine was still cold in the middle.) Great idea too. It met the Prissmas requirements for food. Looks like poo. Tastes yummy.
I don't know who brought it, I think it may have been the 'ladies,' but there was some truly horrendous Spitting Liquor on hand. I was completely amazed - very much awed - by Cat's spitting ability - boy, could she take a lot in her mouth. Now, how could that be practically applied to other events? I'll have to think on that.
Pro: Quantity.
Con: She spits.
Somewhere in the middle of the bonfire ballet, we sang Prissmas Carols around the fire. Apparently T doesn't like to sing in the key of Chuck. "Too low. Too high." she would complain. Through experimentation and trial and error, I think we finally found the right spot when we let her take control. (I imagine it's similar to being married to her-but I'll keep my fantasies to myself.)
I'll write more if it comes to me, but will also let the Prissmas revelers chime in with comments.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
From Fox 5 to Prohibition
Okay, here's the deal. Just pay attention to what people say. Don't let yourself be moved to any kneejerk responses. THINK MAN! Think for yourself.
Which sounds better? Advocate or Activist? An advocate for abortion is an activist to anti-abortionists. Even the name "Pro-Life" lends you believe that people who believe otherwise must be Pro-Death. PETA is an advocate to animal lovers and an activist to furriers (who aren't animal haters).
Politicians, News Writers, Preachers, Car Salesmen, Actors -- it's their job to get you to believe and agree with them. Their words will paint a picture and evoke a response in you.
Now, can anyone tell me the difference between the afternoon shock shows (i.e., Springer) and Fox 5 News?
Fox 5 Investigates did an expose of commuters drinking on the MARC Train.
Using a long list of alarmist phrases they attempted to move the viewer to believe that drinking alcohol on the train must be stopped. Take a look:
-. . .commuters boozing it up. . .
-A scene so troubling it's got lawmakers calling for changes right now.
-"wastin' away again in Margaritaville."
-All aboard this Margaritaville express.
-A free flowing happy hour on the rails. . .
-The rush hour drinking fest even more widespread than FOX5 first exposed last year.
-. . .full party mode. . ..
-. . .doublefisting the booze. . .
-. . .a bizarre Maryland state law which allows eating and drinking --even alcohol -- on the MARC trains.
In the first few seconds of the 'report' they try to create in the viewer an emotional response: terrible ongoing problem, bad drinking, danger.
The law that allows alcohol on the train is not bizarre and drinking on the train is not a troubling scene. What is troubling are people who drink, then drive.
We can all agree, I'm sure, that drinking and driving is a danger to everyone, but what kind of a news report does that make?
"This just in, drinkin' and drivin' is bad, mmmkay? Back to you Maureen."
"Thank you, Bob. VERY informative."
Nope. Not going to sell advertising space, is it?
Let's dress it up and make it marketable.
First, let's call it an expose.
Hmm, needs more alarming phrases.
Which sounds worse? 'Drinking' or 'Boozing it up?'
Add some hippy drinking music! Everyone hates hippies!
Now, add some grainy, concealed camera footage.
No, I'm still not alarmed enough
Okay, blur out some faces and YES! That's perfect.
My, how seedy and underhanded that looks.
Okay, this just in to JUST CHUCK'S BLOG
Shock Jock Fox is seeking prohibition of drinking on the train, If this unending war on your personal freedoms is successful, how long before Fox attacks family owned neighborhood restaurants that serve alcohol? Then how long before Fox supports statewide Prohibition?
Then...obviously...witch hunts.
____________
Which sounds better? Advocate or Activist? An advocate for abortion is an activist to anti-abortionists. Even the name "Pro-Life" lends you believe that people who believe otherwise must be Pro-Death. PETA is an advocate to animal lovers and an activist to furriers (who aren't animal haters).
Politicians, News Writers, Preachers, Car Salesmen, Actors -- it's their job to get you to believe and agree with them. Their words will paint a picture and evoke a response in you.
Now, can anyone tell me the difference between the afternoon shock shows (i.e., Springer) and Fox 5 News?
Fox 5 Investigates did an expose of commuters drinking on the MARC Train.
Using a long list of alarmist phrases they attempted to move the viewer to believe that drinking alcohol on the train must be stopped. Take a look:
-. . .commuters boozing it up. . .
-A scene so troubling it's got lawmakers calling for changes right now.
-"wastin' away again in Margaritaville."
-All aboard this Margaritaville express.
-A free flowing happy hour on the rails. . .
-The rush hour drinking fest even more widespread than FOX5 first exposed last year.
-. . .full party mode. . ..
-. . .doublefisting the booze. . .
-. . .a bizarre Maryland state law which allows eating and drinking --even alcohol -- on the MARC trains.
In the first few seconds of the 'report' they try to create in the viewer an emotional response: terrible ongoing problem, bad drinking, danger.
The law that allows alcohol on the train is not bizarre and drinking on the train is not a troubling scene. What is troubling are people who drink, then drive.
We can all agree, I'm sure, that drinking and driving is a danger to everyone, but what kind of a news report does that make?
"This just in, drinkin' and drivin' is bad, mmmkay? Back to you Maureen."
"Thank you, Bob. VERY informative."
Nope. Not going to sell advertising space, is it?
Let's dress it up and make it marketable.
First, let's call it an expose.
Hmm, needs more alarming phrases.
Which sounds worse? 'Drinking' or 'Boozing it up?'
Add some hippy drinking music! Everyone hates hippies!
Now, add some grainy, concealed camera footage.
No, I'm still not alarmed enough
Okay, blur out some faces and YES! That's perfect.
My, how seedy and underhanded that looks.
Okay, this just in to JUST CHUCK'S BLOG
Shock Jock Fox is seeking prohibition of drinking on the train, If this unending war on your personal freedoms is successful, how long before Fox attacks family owned neighborhood restaurants that serve alcohol? Then how long before Fox supports statewide Prohibition?
Then...obviously...witch hunts.
____________
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
From Baltimore Outloud
If you ever wonder why the rights, benefits and privileges of marriage are important to same sex couples, here is one reason.
From Baltimore Outloud
Baltimore man struggles to keep late partner’s gravesite
By Steve Charing
For Kevin-Douglas Olive of Baltimore’s Seton Hill, the battle only began once his partner Russell Groff died from staph infection in November 2004 at the age of 26. Groff was buried in a rural Tennessee cemetery that the partners had agreed on in a will and burial agreements. Both were from Tennessee.
But Groff’s parents, Lowell and Carolyn Groff, have challenged the burial site and the right of Olive to be executor since July 2005. The expensive legal battles that have ensued and are continuing to strap the finances of Olive to the point he must sell his car and try to raise funds to ward off the Groffs’ challenges.
Russell Groff’s parents have been virulently anti-gay, which is ostensibly motivating them in their pursuit to deny their son’s expressed wishes. They even did a Fred Phelps-like protest during Knoxville, TN’s lgbt "Come Out Knoxville" celebration.
According to the Knoxville Metro Pulse, Carolyn Groff blames the "destructive gay lifestyle" for the death of her son, an aspiring playwright. "He wasn’t like that until he got involved in the theater group at Maryville College," she explains. Several other members of her Bible Baptist Church brought signs denoting that gays are destined to hell. Their brand of Christianity drove Russell away from the Christian church and joined Kevin as a Quaker after they met.
Conversely, Kevin-Douglas Olive parents were active in the Greater Knoxville PFLAG chapter where his mother served as treasurer. Kevin, too, was active in the chapter. But his family does not have the financial means to help Kevin in his the series of lawsuits.
Although he is facing financial ruin, Kevin, 35, a French teacher, is determined to win for Russell what he had wanted. "He was the most important person in the world to me," he told Baltimore OUTloud. "I owe it to him that his wishes are carried out."
The legal battles, which are sapping his funds, are a two-pronged approach: one to impeach Kevin as an administrator of the estate and the other to overturn the will. He had won the initial round in a Baltimore City Orphans Court but Groff’s parents have appealed the decision so that they may move their son’s body to a family cemetery. During the appeal, the entire case must be presented from scratch.
Kevin says the legal fees are currently running $22,000. Thus far, he has raised only $5,000 to meet those obligations. He can use whatever financial help is available.
Contributions can be made to: Kevin Olive Defense Fund, c/o Homewood Friends Meeting, 3107 N. Charles St., Baltimore, MD 21218.
From Baltimore Outloud
Baltimore man struggles to keep late partner’s gravesite
By Steve Charing
For Kevin-Douglas Olive of Baltimore’s Seton Hill, the battle only began once his partner Russell Groff died from staph infection in November 2004 at the age of 26. Groff was buried in a rural Tennessee cemetery that the partners had agreed on in a will and burial agreements. Both were from Tennessee.
But Groff’s parents, Lowell and Carolyn Groff, have challenged the burial site and the right of Olive to be executor since July 2005. The expensive legal battles that have ensued and are continuing to strap the finances of Olive to the point he must sell his car and try to raise funds to ward off the Groffs’ challenges.
Russell Groff’s parents have been virulently anti-gay, which is ostensibly motivating them in their pursuit to deny their son’s expressed wishes. They even did a Fred Phelps-like protest during Knoxville, TN’s lgbt "Come Out Knoxville" celebration.
According to the Knoxville Metro Pulse, Carolyn Groff blames the "destructive gay lifestyle" for the death of her son, an aspiring playwright. "He wasn’t like that until he got involved in the theater group at Maryville College," she explains. Several other members of her Bible Baptist Church brought signs denoting that gays are destined to hell. Their brand of Christianity drove Russell away from the Christian church and joined Kevin as a Quaker after they met.
Conversely, Kevin-Douglas Olive parents were active in the Greater Knoxville PFLAG chapter where his mother served as treasurer. Kevin, too, was active in the chapter. But his family does not have the financial means to help Kevin in his the series of lawsuits.
Although he is facing financial ruin, Kevin, 35, a French teacher, is determined to win for Russell what he had wanted. "He was the most important person in the world to me," he told Baltimore OUTloud. "I owe it to him that his wishes are carried out."
The legal battles, which are sapping his funds, are a two-pronged approach: one to impeach Kevin as an administrator of the estate and the other to overturn the will. He had won the initial round in a Baltimore City Orphans Court but Groff’s parents have appealed the decision so that they may move their son’s body to a family cemetery. During the appeal, the entire case must be presented from scratch.
Kevin says the legal fees are currently running $22,000. Thus far, he has raised only $5,000 to meet those obligations. He can use whatever financial help is available.
Contributions can be made to: Kevin Olive Defense Fund, c/o Homewood Friends Meeting, 3107 N. Charles St., Baltimore, MD 21218.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Happy Anniversary !
Three years ago there was a great hue and cry for defense of the sanctity of marriage. From what did it need defending? Apparently...me.
Three years ago today, I stood in line at the town hall to apply for a marriage license. After a three day waiting period Mike and I were married.
So tell me -- Please, PLEASE tell me . . . in the three years that I have been living in blissful (but unrecognized) domesticity - almost paying bills, filing taxes, cleaning up cat vomit and dog poo, doing laundry, killing plants and making our house a home (just like you), PLEASE tell me -- how has the sanctity of your marriages been compromised by our marriage?
And what the hell IS the 'sanctity' of marriage ANYWAY?
I'll tell you what it is. 'Defending the sanctity of marriage' is a turn of phrase that strikes an automatic emotional chord. So, without thinking, your brain clicks:
"Sanctity" is a good word, yes, yes, yes. Clear, pure, gooooood.
"Marriage" is a good word, yes, yes, yes. Love, commitment, gooooood.
"Defend" is a good word, yes, yes, yes. Keep safe, goooooood.
....must...defend...sanctity...of...marriage...
But how many stop to think about it?
What is threatening the sanctity of marriage?
Obviously, it's the gays! (Confident exasperation)
But, wait, how are they a threat?
Because they want to get married! (Rolled eyes)
Again that's a threat, how?
Uh . . . well, my religion says . . .(Self righteously)
Wait. Your religion is not a basis for laws.
Well, then. Marriage is for procreation. (Smug smile)
Explain how my NOT procreating is a threat to YOUR marriage - and then please explain the concept of unwed mothers and childless couples.
It's not natural! (Worried exasperation)
It appears in nature all the time, birds, antelope, bison, the list goes on - and it's still not a threat.
.... (Silence)
Right, now run along and ruin someone else's life.
Here's the point.
Because of the illogical, emotional response of (dare I say it?) idiots, I am denied over 1100 rights and benefits of marriage that protect loved ones and surviving spouses.
Can ANYONE explain why?
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