The Third Decade

C'mon, Bush, Talk to the Colored Folk

I have yet another reason not to vote for George W. Bush: he won't even talk to my peeps. There's an article in today's Boston Herald which states that for the fourth year in a row he has declined the NAACP's invitation to speak at their annual convention. So, it would seem Mr. Bush was comfortable being the governor of a state which executed plenty of poor colored folk and he's comfortable as the (supposed-)leader of a country which sends a disproportionate number of colored soldiers over to fight in unprovoked wars (I'm not buying that whole pre-emptive strike nonsense). But when it comes to speaking to middle class and politically savvy colored folks, he can't give us the time of day. Hmph! I'm still waiting for someone to tell me why I should vote for him.

The Truth

This week's horoscope is a little better:

Here's one of the few universal truths I know: Everyone has a piece of the truth, even those you disagree with. According to my reading of the astrological omens, though, you are now in possession of a giant piece of the truth -- bigger than what you usually have and bigger than everyone else's piece. That's exactly why you should proceed cautiously. Your deep understanding and authoritative knowledge might tempt you to dismiss the tiny slivers of truth that other people are holding, and that would be a mistake.

So, what other truths are out there??

Two Suggestions

While I'm online and on this site, I may as well offer two suggestions.

First, go see Spiderman 2. If you haven't seen the first one, you don't really have to, but I think you'd get a good feeling for how much better the sequel is compared to the first. Spiderman was a good movie, don't get me wrong, but SM2 really looks and feels like a comic book come to life! I enjoyed every moment of the film, although the ending was a little weak...not enough to spoil the show, but not as strong as the rest of the film either.

Second, avoid Best Buy...or at least the one at the Landmark Center in the Fenway in Boston. Without getting into too much detail, the service at that Best Buy is abysmal. My friend from Chicago says that I'm too patient with the level of customer service around Boston (well, it's not so bad when compared to customer service in London), but the employees at that store just pushed me over the edge. They are rude, inattentive, inaccurate, unknowledgable, and dismissive. All I wanted to do on Saturday was buy a memory card for my digital camera. The three employees standing next to the digicams didn't know anything about them and they foisted me off on the one guy who did. That guy then gave me the wrong item (after I explained specifically the kind of camera I have), and my purchase was rung up by a cashier who barely gave me the time of day. I left thinking that at least I have my item, but then it turned out to be the wrong thing. Yesterday I went back to the store intending to exchange the item, but the employee staffing the returns/exchange desk - the exact same guy who was my cashier - was again rude and dismissive. Instead of exchaging the item I returned it. I don't want that store to gain credit for having made a sale. I'll also never shop there again and I discourage you all from shopping there, too. I wish I could chalk up that experience as being unique, but other people have complained about other Best Buy stores as well. Stay away, folks. Stay away!

When Am I Too Old?

Yesterday a friend and I watched the news over dinner. Just like every other day, there was something about another explosion in Iraq, more soldiers and civilians being killed, and the state of politics in the US and around the world. I don't remember whether there was a report about how over-stretched the US military is or that troop rotations are occuring more frequently than was previously expected, but somehow we started talking about Selective Service and reinstatement of the Draft. There's no fear of my being inducted into the military. All I have to do is flirt with the general or one of the other recruitment staff and I'm sure I'll be let off the hook. Still, we were wondering how old is too old to be drafted. I tried looking online at the Selective Service website, but didn't get a firm answer. I suspect that 26 may be the cut off age for draftees, but I wouldn't be surprised if the age cut off were older either. Anyone know the answer?

In the meantime, I'm waiting for the Village Voice to update its weekly horoscope. I didn't like last week's, so I'm hoping for something better this week.

Ole!

One of the world's more interesting events happened the other day: the running of the bulls in Spain. I don't know how I got to this website, but it's pretty cool. Check it out!

Celibacy

My horoscope from the Village Voice isn't so cool this week:

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): My Piscean friend Risa dreamed that the Buddhist monk and teacher Thich Nhat Hanh wanted to give up his celibacy to pursue a romantic relationship with her. She was flattered—the man is a brilliant saint who has written more than 20 books—but she ultimately decided to stick with her husband. The night after she told me this dream, I dreamed that my three best Piscean friends were making love with Mother Teresa, Buddha, and the 16th-century Kabbalist holy man Isaac Luria. From this evidence, as well as certain astrological data, I conclude that you Fish are in the midst of trying to integrate your spiritual and sensual yearnings. To expedite this exciting process, I suggest you murmur exuberant prayers during your sexual encounters this week.

Besides being just a bit weird, the writer assumes that I'm having encounters. I wish. Been experiencing a dry spell recently. It's pretty much my own fault for being so picky. But, why shouldn't I - or all of us for that matter - be a little choosy about our partners, right? Anyway, I don't think Mother Theresa, Buddha, or holy man Luria will be showing up anytime soon, but who knows if a cutie might stray my way. I'll keep my fingers crossed at least.

3:25pm

Seems like I'm not the only one complaining about my supervisor today. Literally half the office is up in arms. Its now 3:25pm and no one has seen our super for hours. We suspect she's gone home. She tends to do that when she can't handle the pressure at the office. Hmph, some manager! And the administration wonders why some of us grumble when we're working hard while they hardly work.

Escape from New York

I wish I could be one of the lucky few who either:

A: is independently wealthy and can travel wherever and whenever,
B: is paid to travel (travel agent, travel writer, entertainer, etc),
C: hits the lottery and wins big bucks and therefore never has to work again.

Last weekend in New York City was so wonderful, and now I'm back in my little cubicle in a battle of wills with my supervisor (more on that later).

I went down to NYC on Saturday to visit friends and to hang out during New York Pride. While there I stumbled across the Patti LaBelle concert on Saturday afternoon (Ms. Patti was hot!); saw friends from college, my days in Japan, and more recent friends; went bar hopping in the Village; and checked out the sights, sounds, and people on Pride Sunday. It was a good weekend overall, even when I got a little lost in the subway.

Usually I'm pretty good about getting around the NY subway, but with all the construction, diversions, and closings on Sunday, I was turned all around. Without getting into too much detail, I boarded a Brooklyn bound B train around 4:30pm expecting it to take me to Canal Street Station. I didn't realize that trains on that line don't stop at Canal, so before I knew it, I was crossing a bridge into Brooklyn and ended up at Fulton Street! Somehow I got to the 4 train decided to take that to City Hall Station and catch the 6 train since that stops at Canal, but then the 6 decided to go express AFTER the doors were closed and we were on our way. So, I had to go all the way to Union Square, get back on a downtown 6, get off at Canal, and then haul it uphill to the bus stop. By the time I got to the ticket window it was about 5:30 and all the buses to Boston were sold out for the rest of the day. Luckily my Aussie friend let me crash at his place for another night, so I just jumped on the 9am bus the next morning and returned to Boston. I even went to work yesterday...and that's when the test of wills began.

My supervisor likes to avoid doing work. We all do, don't we? But with her it's gotten to a point where everyone under her supervision - and even those who aren't - have lost (or are losing) faith in her. We still do what she asks of us, but with increasing suspicion and incredulity. Yesterday she asked me to review an old file which she was working on in conjunction with another member of staff who recently retired. Our director sent an email asking her to review the file. My super then hands it to me and asks me to do it. She also sends an email prior to that action saying that I would handle it and sends a copy of that email to the director. The director then sends another email saying she wanted my supervisor to handle it. Now, after two emails, it seems clear that my supervisor - not I - is supposed to handle it. So I give the file back to her. She has a fit! She tells me not to question her authority and not to question her decisions. Naturally, I do. Her response is: "Well, do whatever you want." So, I leave the file on her desk and walk out the office.

A little later another email is sent out (and copied to the director). My super says that she wants me to handle the case and that I should not tell her what to do. I reply (again copying the director) saying that she twisted my words, that I didn't tell her what to do, and that I was acting on the basis of the two emails. Haven't heard a word from anyone yet. Let's see where this one goes, although I think she wants an update of some sort by tomorrow.

$3400

Today's Guardian of London reports that the US has spent $126 billion for the war in Iraq and that every family in the United States will ultimately pay an estimated $3,415. Here are the first three paragraphs of the article in case the whole thing has already been erased or is inaccessable:

The United States has spent more than $126bn on the war in Iraq, which will ultimately cost every American family an estimated $3,415, according to a new report by two thinktanks.

The report, published yesterday by the leftwing Institute for Policy Studies and Foreign Policy in Focus also counts the human costs.

As of June 16, before yesterday's nationwide attacks, up to 11,317 Iraqi civilians and 6,370 Iraqi soldiers or insurgents had been killed, according to the report, which is titled Paying the Price: The Mounting Costs of the Iraq War.

So, here I am (we are) giving money to a man who wasn't even elected by the majority of the electorate for a war/invasion with dubious merits or legal basis. And yet this same man expects to keep his position as the President for another four years? Am I the naive one for thinking this is sheer madness?

On a much brighter note, I'm going to indulge in a bit of escapism this weekend. New York City's Pride weekend is coming up, so I'm heading for the Big Apple to celebrate. Happy Pride Month, everyone.

Presidential Joke

My friend in Mexico sent me this joke a while back. For some reason I felt compelled to share it today. It's a bit raunchy, so read at your own risk:

***********************
George Bush Jr. has a heart attack and dies. He goes to hell where the devil is waiting for him.

“I don't know what to do here,” says the devil. "You are on my list but I have no room for you. You definitely have to stay here, so I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I've got three folks here who weren't quite as bad as you. I'll let one of them go, but you have to take their place. I'll even let YOU decide who leaves."

George thought that sounded pretty good, so he agreed. The devil opened the first room: in it was Richard Nixon and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and surfacing empty-handed over and over and over. Such was his fate in hell. “No!” George said. "I don't think so. I'm not a good swimmer and don't think I could do that all day long."

The devil led him to the next room: in it was Tony Blair with a sledge hammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, time after time after time. “No, I've got this problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if all I could do was break rocks all day!" commented George.

The devil opened a third door. In it, George saw Bill Clinton, lying on the floor with his arms staked over his head, and his legs staked in spread eagle pose. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best. George Bush looked at this in disbelief for a while and finally said, “Yeah, I can handle this.”

The devil smiled and said...........

OK, Monica, you're free to go!"