The Post about Christmas Cards December 16th

This year my wife and I mailed seventy-one Christmas cards to the usual assortment of friends and family. Each card included a personalized note, a smartly printed label, a professional photo of my children, and a subtle but strategically placed holiday sticker on each envelope.

In return we've received fourteen cards, one of which is from a tobacco company that wished us a Happy Kwanza.

If I was prone to rationalization - which normally, I am - I'd label this evidence of a dip in Christmas card giving overall, or proof of the decline of snail-mail in the internet age.

Of course that wouldn't explain why I had to wait in line at the post-office for forty minutes behind scores of people mailing their cards.

So I'm inclined to take this as a personal affront. It certainly can't be directed at my kids, not unless you know them like I do. And my wife could be the source of the boycott, if it wasn't for the fact that no one is foolish enough to cross her. Therefore, it has to be me.

And it hurts people. It does.

Oh, it's not about the cards. Truth be told I rarely read them, other than to note the sender and make sure they spelled my last name correctly (how is it that people in your own family - people that share your name, can spell it wrong every year?).

Now, I used to read them all, back when I was fresh faced and young and thought it was oh-so special to have Great Aunt Sally send you a Christmas card at your very own address.

A few years into it you notice that there are only four or five varieties of cards in circulation in any given year, each one saying the same thing. That starts the decline.

Then the fateful year comes when you look at your empty wallet and stoop to mailing out the ten-for-a-dollar cards from the discount store. You hope no one notices your shame.

Whereupon you realize that while Mom receives the top of the line cards each Yuletide, those same people annually mail you the rinky-dink single ply cards you're holding in your hands.

No, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus.

But as I said it's not about the cards. It's about economics, a simple matter of exchanging value for value. If I may have a moment:

The cards themselves were on sale for perhaps a dollar each.

The stamps totaled $26.27.

The stickers really don't count, as we purchased them on triple clearance.

No such luck with the photos, which cost $50, not including the incidentals like dresses, shoes, and hair bows.

The time wasted in line at the post office? Priceless.

So, conservatively, we're looking at a total investment of around $150. That boils down to more than two bucks a person. Is it so much to ask that I get even a teensy-weensy card in return?

My wife, ever the voice of reason in things not involving Oprah or the New Kids, says I'm overreacting. According to her it's a matter of reaching out to loved ones you otherwise have no contact with to tell them "we still aren't divorced, and by the way we've bred again."

She has a point. So what if I don't get a card from five-sixths of the people I thought important enough to put on my list. It's not the end of the world, and it doesn't mean I'm not loved. I'll still send them all a card next year.

Provided they reimburse me my two bucks.

The Post about My Ideology December 14th

I’ve been wandering all over blog-dom in the last month, perusing what people around the globe have to say.

My conclusion? Thank heavens for the computer age, because it can’t be healthy to keep this stuff bottled up.

There are sites about pets, and sites ‘written’ by pets. There are Republican blogs, Democrat blogs, blogs about blogs, blogs about blogs about blogs, transgender blogs, gay blogs, straight blogs, and blogs about nothing. There is even a site (purportedly) written by a one year old boy, which if true means my three year old is a slacker and good for nothing.

(Which is something my wife and I have always suspected, but try to keep on the down-low)

But not once, did I ever feel I got to know what that person truly believed about the things that mattered.

And when you get right down to it, it’s important to know whether the author of a site favors Biggie or Tupac. Wars have been fought over less.

So in the interest of partial disclosure I present my Rambling List of Personal Ideology, Ranging from the Divine to the Absurd with little Order and even Less Sense, vol. 1

I‘m a Catholic, for many reasons. Among these are what I call the two Hollywood rules: whatever its faults, the original is better than any remakes. And when all is lost and the devil is loose in the world, who shows up in the movies to set things right? It ain’t the Mormons, brother.

I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies.

I am truly bothered by the idea that Tony Soprano might be killed off before he gets a chance to redeem himself, and wonder whether God takes things like that into account.

I believe Oswald killed Kennedy.

I think M*A*S*H was the best sitcom ever, and prefer Trapper to BJ, Colonel Potter to Blake, and Winchester to Burns.

I think Friends takes second place, and firmly believe Chandler rocks.

I think when a political party chooses an ass as a mascot it tells you everything you need to know.

I prefer Laurel and Hardy to Abbott and Costello, werewolves to vampires, and the Captain to Tenille.

I think Burger King burgers are better than McDonald’s, Wendy’s is better than both, and McDonald’s fries trump all.

I think Kate Winslet is the sexiest woman in Hollywood, and am eternally grateful that she removes her clothes in 80% of her movies.

I think that sometimes the quickest way out is through.

Personally, I go with Tupac.

I think baseball is the greatest sport of all time, followed by football, boxing, basketball, and hockey, in that order.

Soccer, when erroneously called a sport, ranks last.

I am the only person on the earth who can say he likes every type of music - and mean it.

I think the New Kids on the Block are the best boy band ever, and that Jordan Knight was their most talented member.

I prefer DC comics to Marvel, but favor Spider-Man over Superman. Go figure.

I prefer Conan to Leno and Kelly over Kathie Lee.

Of the hundreds of books I’ve read in my lifetime, the only one I’ve read twice is The Godfather.

Titanic is the first of two movies I’ve seen more than once in the theater. I saw it thirteen times.

Gladiator is the second. I saw it three times.

I believe human teeth are the only flaw in God’s design.

And finally, and most importantly in the whole scheme of things:

I think the Godfather would wipe his ass with Tony Montana.

The Post about the Reserves December 12th

The older I get, the more I worry that there are no true solutions to a problem, only temporary course adjustments.

The formula is always the same. A problem is evident, and a solution - innovative or tried and true, it doesn't matter - is put into action. The trouble is solved and great praise is bestowed. Twenty years later that panacea has created its own difficulties and the cycle beings again.

What we're seeing in Iraq is the end/beginning of a cycle.

After Vietnam Chief of Staff Creighton Abrams was charged with overhauling the troubled Army as it switched to an all-volunteer service. He reduced it in size, but he also implemented a fundamental change in its organization. Abrams believed Vietnam had gone wrong partly because we were able to wage a war with a bare bones contribution from the Reserves - which, to his mind, slowed the impact of the war on the middle class and necessary debate on the war. His reorganization of the Army ensured that any future war would necessitate activating the reserves.

It worked. In both the Gulf War and Iraq, whether you agree with the war or not, action was preceded by public debate and congressional approval.

But this newfound reliance on the reserve system has strained the patience - and performance - of some Army units. In October reservists from a South Carolina unit refused orders to drive a convoy because it was too dangerous.

Last week eight U.S. soldiers and reservists filed a lawsuit seeking to stop the Army's stop-loss policy, another 'correction' of Vietnam policy. Unlike Vietnam, where units were depleted of experience and leadership by a policy of rotation, soldiers are sometimes required to remain with their units past their scheduled return.

And this week Spc.Thomas Wilson of the 278th Regimental Combat team (a unit comprised mainly of Army National Guardsmen) openly confronted the Secretary of Defense about a lack of armored vehicles- to the loud applause of his unit. It was later discovered that a journalist had secretly coached Wilson.

I don't doubt that the vast majority of reservists are patriotic Americans doing their duty. And I don't mean to minimize the sacrifice they make by leaving their families behind for months and even years; after all, it was a sacrifice I was unwilling to make in the years of peace that followed my eighteenth birthday.

But the truth is that it's an army and not a means of paying for college or making an extra buck. If you aren't prepared to be called to active duty, then it would be wise not to enlist. If you are unwilling to accept that 'fairness' is largely absent in war and you may be forced to stay longer than you thought, then it would be wise not to enlist. If you do not have the vague notion in your head that a whole lot of missions are dangerous and could get you killed (even if you're only driving a truck), then it would be wise not to enlist.

[This might land me in hot water, but if your character precludes showing the Secretary of Defense his due respect, and you prefer to turn a courtesy visit into a carnival at the request of a reporter, then kindly choose not to enlist.]

It's time to re-examine the Army's organization. Abrams was right - reserve units do hold a special place in America's heart. But while in the past Americans may have needed a kick in the pants to question a war; we've grown bitter and cynical and perhaps, smarter. We don't need that extra incentive, not at the expense of morale.

And in an era where the Army is called to work miracles under the glare of an antagonistic media, maybe it's best if that work was done by personnel who do it 24/7/365.

One Month!

Today is the one- month anniversary of this site. So far I've had 2406 visitors.

Impressive, but most come from Blog Explosion, which mean they're staying for the minimum required time and moving on.

Even so, fourteen people on BE have chosen to bookmark Slapinions, which is fourteen more people than I'd have reading it otherwise. And twenty-two people on BE have chosen to rate my site on a 1 to 10 scale. As of this writing I have a 6.86 rating, which is pretty good considering my site is as visually appealing as Bea Arthur.

I'm trying to add the Haloscan comments as recommended below. In the meantime, these are the comments that are strictly from BE users and not visible to mere common folk:

You can only comment if you have an AOL account, which I don't, but I liked your Giambi post. Pretty gross the way they screw up their bodies. What the hell do guys that make 100K on the bench need a union for?

purplezebra | 00:25 December 4th, 2004 | 0 Replies | Report | Delete

I agree with the second comment

amb3589 | 20:37 December 3rd, 2004 | 0 Replies | Report | Delete

I was not able to comment on your post "The One about Giambi" I just wanted to leave a comment to say I agree 100%. I really think that all of his health problems are due to steroids. I hope that the health issue becomes the big thing in all of this. Life and death is certainly bigger than baseball, and this truely is a life and death issue...

PeterMan | 17:02 December 3rd, 2004 | 0 Replies | Report | Delete

I agree with the first comment. Mainly political blog, but not insulting like many other political blogs I've run into.

I suggest changing the comment format, since it forces you to sign up for an AOL Journals account. I myself recently switched from a members-only comment account (Blogger) to the universal Halocan, and I've found that people are more willing to comment on my posts now.

Oh, and you must be the only other person on Earth besides me who knows about Donnie Wahlberg's rap from "No More Games"! I presume you're talking about the original version of "No More Games", not the C&C Music Factory version...

kaonashi | 22:53 November 29th, 2004 | 0 R#eplies | Report | Delete

Very well written blog. Largely concerned with politcs, but doesn't rant. Content with about a PG-13 content for very light adult references. (Things like "Yoda" sex comments.)

Oftencold | 02:26 November 22nd, 2004 | 0 Replies | Report | Delete

 

 

Until the comments are up and running, I'd like to ask a favor. If you are a repeat visitor to the site, or plan on being one, drop me a line at Slapinions@aol.com and tell me. I'd like to get some sense of who's reading my stuff, and will post your name and (if you have one) your url in a future post.

The One about The ID Policy December 9th

I was buying cigarettes at the grocery store the other day when the clerk asked to see my ID.

Yes, I smoke. Get over it.

Now I'd heard about the new store policy that says clerks are required to look at the ID of anyone purchasing alcohol or tobacco. I knew that on paper their policy was to card everyone, regardless of age, rather than face the wrath of our litigious society. I just didn't believe that this 'ideal' would carry over into the real world, where common sense insists that the grandmother at the counter might just be old enough to tip one back.

But apparently, these people actually read the memos on the break room wall.

I must admit to being a little put out. I'm long past the point where being carded makes you feel cool and grownup, but I'm also too young to find it flattering. I can see questioning me over liquor, but cigarettes? I was old enough to buy them before the checkout girl was born.

And it's not like I don't look my age. I had two days worth of stubble - which for any other man would be a week's growth - and thinning hair. I had two kids in my cart. I wear a wedding ring. I was paying with a credit card. And if that wasn’t enough, the Eisenhower/Nixon T-shirt really should have been a tip-off.

In retrospect, it doesn't seem like they asked the world. But if you've ever tried to keep two toddlers quiet and happy at a grocery store, you can appreciate how desperate a thirty second delay can be. A weeks worth of cigarettes do less damage to my health and well being.

I understand that a company has to protect its financial well-being, but more and more it seems to be at the expense of logic and responsibility. If my kids purchased cigarettes illegally, but without gross negligence - in other words, if they didn’t manage to do it at age ten - then my beef wouldn’t be with the store, it’d be with my kids.

Alcohol is a different story. Unlike tobacco it has immediate consequences, not only for the consumer but for people on the road. It makes sense to tighten sales policy, although I don’t see how you can justify going to the extreme the store has.

Milwaukee County Sheriff David A. Clarke Jr. doesn’t see it that way.

In a column published in the December 9th Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel takes issue with the ribbing the policy has been taking.

Those who have hang-ups with [the] policy have apparently neither lost a child nor been at the scene of a violent crash involving alcohol . . . I don’t find anything funny about notifying a parent that their son or daughter is dead. . . . That cashier . . .may be saving your son or daughter’s life. Do you find that incontinent?

Well, Gosh, now I feel bad. I mean here I sit, without a single casualty (knock on wood) to use to score cheap points in a debate. And you know, maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s not all about liability and twisting common sense on its head. Maybe it’s a humanitarian effort. All those ideas about how the policy essentially forgoes enforcing a perfectly good law in favor of an overboard stance . . .

What can I say? I was wrong.

No one is in favor of underage drinking. So prevent it by doing your job and carding anyone twenty-five or even thirty. I’m fine with that.

Just leave the chain smoking grandma’s alone.

Ugh

I tried and failed to load haloscan comments into the site. I'll contact them and see if it's even possible.

In the meantime, the entry below is in response to a question from Sarah Jakubowski. If you have any questions, comments, etc and can't access the pathetically limited comments section here, feel free to drop me a line at slapinions@aol.com

Enjoy.

 

The One about Belling

If someone had come up to me two months ago and said that my homestate of Wisconsin would be the center of a media controversy, I'd have laughed in her face. Remember, I'm barely old enough to remember Reagan's first term, yet I have clear memories of a sock puppet - yes, a sock puppet - doing the weather forecast on Milwaukee's CBS affiliate. And while the puppet has long since retired, that's still about as risqué as the local media gets around here.

Had that prediction been made, I'd be eating a lot of crow for the holidays.

As of this writing there have been not one, but three separate incidents involving radio talk show hosts in Milwaukee and Madison. Conservative Mark Belling was suspended for five days following his use of the term 'wetbacks'. Madison host John Sylvester faced criticism for calling Condoleeza Rice "Aunt Jemima", and former Milwaukee Alderman Michael McGee was suspended recently for uttering the F word on air.

I've heard discussions on free speech, censorship, FCC regulations, and corporate responsibility that have been spawned by these episodes. That's lovely, but I think they all miss the boat. Do you know why none of this - not the original 'sins' or the subsequent arguments - have inspired me? Because, when it comes down to it this is nothing more then a case of three men filling seconds of airtime with a lousy, ignorant choice of words. Fine them, suspend them, or fire them as the incident warrants, but please spare me the talk of lofty ideals. I don't buy it.

On the other hand, there is some validity to the claim that the 'liberal' media crucified Belling while ignoring the excesses of its own poster boy. But not for the reasons you think.

Yes, there's a wonderful staged atmosphere to the Belling affair. Following his statement the station received only a "couple" of complaints. By their own admission, many of the Mexican-American groups that protested Belling first heard about it days after the fact, from Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel reporters looking for (and creating?) a story. And subsequent efforts to have Belling's employer fund Community Centers and college programs to 'make amends' smacks of selfish exploitation.

But when it comes down to it, Belling said the word, and it was inevitable that it would be reported. Mark Belling is a household name in Wisconsin. John Sylvester is not. Mark Belling filled in for Rush Limbaugh nation wide. If John Sylvester has ever broadcast nationally at all, it's not common knowledge.

Put yourself in the media's shoes: if you had two nearly identical stories, one featuring Pam Grier and the other Julia Roberts, which would you play up?

Moreover, Belling's remarks were off the cuff. Sylvester's reek of self-publicity. It's just possible that the media - for once - recognized the truth and buried the story, only to have it dragged front and center by conservatives.

[McGee, by the way, had been the subject of a legal investigation prior to his suspension. Because of this, it's impossible to draw him into these comparisons; the station probably looks at the obscenity as a Godsend]

And you know what? This might have done both Belling and the state some good. Belling has a solidified and angry base at his beck and call. And coming as it did in the wake of the election, he absorbed a lot of the venom of an angry Blue-State electorate - sparing his own supporters the wrath of the left.

Still, it makes you long for the days of the sock puppet, doesn't it?

The One about Chai Soua Vang December 5th

Last week Chai Soua Vang, a truck driver from Minnesota, was found trespassing on private land while hunting in Wisconsin. Confronted, he turned as if to leave.

Forty yards away he opened fire.

The owner of the land called for help, an act that only increased the scope of the tragedy. When it was over, Vang had taken the lives of six people and wounded two others.

Four of the dead were shot in the back. Of the eight victims, only one was armed.

Of all the tragic tales we hear on the news, this seems to be one of the most cut and dry. Aside from a ludicrous denial that he quickly recanted, the statements of Vang and the survivors agree on the general course of events. Where they differ, forensic evidence refutes Vang. Furthermore, Vang has been cited for trespassing in the past, and was recently investigated – although not charged – with spousal abuse.

Since the shootings Vang has also become a suspect in an unsolved 2001 murder in the area. That victim was also shot in the back.

Which is why I was surprised when a friend said he hoped Vang was acquitted.

Now I make no claim to being the nicest or most inclusive of men, but in my thirty years I have managed to gather a pretty diverse group of friends. They include college graduates and high school dropouts, Christians and a Druid, Republicans and self-proclaimed Socialists.

The friend that hoped for acquittal? A conservative married man in his late thirties who’s a diehard Republican. He’s also a cop.

Not exactly the opinion I expected from him, but the more we talked, the more I realized his opinion wasn’t based on facts or scientific reasoning. It was based on his own emotional response to the situation in the news.

Because among all those other adjectives, my friend is also African-American.

“You don’t understand what it was like for him up there,” he said. “Alone in the woods surrounded by a bunch of angry white guys? How scared do you think he was?”

I asked him how he thought that excused killing six unarmed people. “You think they were so innocent? What do you think they said to him. ‘Please Mr. Asian-American, vacate this land that you are illegally occupying.’ Pu-lease.”

Again, I asked how that excused shooting four people in the back, or stalking and killing the initial survivors for more than a hundred yards in the woods. If it was just plain old fear, be it racially motivated or not, wouldn’t it have been a quick, mindless attack? Why the methodical, coldhearted approach? The man put on camouflage gear in the middle of the attack, for Pete’s sake.

I never got a satisfactory answer. I don’t expect there is one.

I don’t understand this seemingly irresistible temptation to project bias into every situation. And it isn’t a phenomenon limited to race or creed. Gay activists are angry because of a report that perhaps, just perhaps, Matthew Sheppard was murdered for reasons other than his sexuality. I understand his death became their movement’s rallying cry, but what does it say when the loss of a young man’s life becomes less important than a message you wish to send? Regardless of why he died, his death was tragic and wrong.

Maybe I can’t understand this precisely because I’m a white, straight male. But Vang didn’t try to kill all eight people because of color or ethnicity, he did it to assure that there’d be no witnesses left to identify him. He failed.

So should the attempts to pigeonhole everything based on race.

Bunch of Schtuff

First off, if you're visiting courtesy of Blog Explosion, here's the scoop: some of my commentaries are purely political, some are humorous, and some are a mix of both. Take a look around before your thirty seconds are up, and if you don't like the subject of one post, I'd encourage you to take a look at another before you make up your mind.

Secondly, I had some major dental work in the last few days. Sorry for the delay in posting. Friday's post is below.

Third, I've made myself a wish list on Amazon. Not that I expect anything from the casual reader (although it'd be nice) but I figure someone in the family will see this and get an idea of what I want/need . . . before they inevitably buy me socks.

http://amazon.com/gp/registry/2STAM2V4HX4XI

Lastly, in answer to one of the few - the very very very few - comments left on the site: sure, I'd be happy to offer up my views on whatever you like. I have an opinion on most things, and if all else fails I can always make one up. Just drop a note in the comments section, which I'm told is quite nasty to behold, or email me at Slapinions@aol.com and I'll respond in kind.

By the way, some readers have filled me in on how clumbsy and inconvienent the AOL comments section is constructed. For this, I apologize. Given a few more months, I may move this site to a more hospitable locale. Any ideas/preferences between sites like blogger and blogspot and the like? Let me know.

The One about Giambi

So Jason Giambi, All-Star first baseman for the New York Yankees, used performance-enhancing drugs.

That’s an understatement. Giambi injected human growth hormone into his stomach, testosterone into his buttocks, rubbed a steroid cream over his body, took the female fertility drug Clomid, and placed drops of a liquid steroid under his tongue.

If steroids were heroin, this guy would rival Courtney Love.

I feel a bit guilty making fun of Giambi. I’m a big Yankees fan – heck, my son’s nursery’s going to be done in pinstripes. And I love baseball. My senior thesis in college was about baseball. The bookcase in my bedroom has five shelves of baseball books dating back a hundred years. And I dutifully attend my hometown Brewers games, even though they haven’t had a winning season since Lincoln was in office.

But I really, really hope baseball gets screwed on this one.

Why? Because I’m sick of everyone pretending the game’s on the up and up. For ten years we’ve seen players put up numbers that belong in a video game. You know how many times someone hit 50 home runs in a season in all the years before 1995? Eighteen. How many different players have reached that plateau since then? The same number: eighteen. Up until the mid ‘90’s only the occasional freak would hit above .320. Now, for anyone outside the Brewers organization, that’s bare bones adequate.

A juiced ball you say? Smaller parks? I’ll buy it to a point. But in exchange don’t ignore the fact that some of the guys that step to the plate look more like linebackers than baseball players. Yeah, yeah, Sammy, I read your book. You didn’t really grow until you immigrated and had proper American nutrition – you know, McDonald’s, KFC, the sort of places that promote a hundred pounds of new muscle in your twenties.

And Barry Bonds? [full disclosure : I have been accused by some to irrationally despise Barry Bonds. They’re wrong. I don’t think it’s irrational at all.]

Please note that Giambi obtained his drugs directly from Bonds’ personal trainer, the same guy Bonds felt so indispensable that he fought Giants management when they wanted him banned from the locker room.

Until the mid ‘90’s Bonds was a thin, athletic outfielder. One ofthe best players of the era, and a two time MVP, he hit more than 40 home runs in only three of his first fourteen years.

Then, well into his thirties he had a massive growth spurt, emerging as a huge, muscular power hitter. Now I’ve hear this explained away by saying that people naturally get thicker as they get older. Uh, yeah. But for most people I know ‘thicker’ means around the middle and in the caboose, not the biceps and chest. [note to self: If Barry is exonerated, rejoice. In 2.5 years you too will experience naturally induced muscle growth and finally kick the butt of the guy that kicked sand in your face at the beach]

Now what worries me is that MLB is at the mercy of the players union. Players like Bonds can say ‘test me’ all they want, because they know the union won’t allow it. Maybe it’s time MLB said enough. If the union wants to strike, let them. See how much goodwill they generate by striking to avoid a drug test.

Baseball is a game that depends on its statistics and records for continuity, far more than any other sport. Let too many fall courtesy of steroids and the game will be harmed forever.

Without realizing it, Giambi may just save the game he tried to swindle.