It's funny to me that we have a word in English that is so clearly Spanish: incomunicado. I know there are lots of loan words from other languages in English (kindergarten, smorgasbord, bonsai, hula), but incommunicado seems different. Maybe because it's an ordinary adjective and it sounds so much like an English word (uncommunicative) with a Spanish ending added on. It's like Spanglish: "So were over at the parent-os the other day and la mama was very incommunicado..." And there's nothing about the meaning of incommunicado that is inherently Spanish or Latin American. It just means out of contact.
+++++
Anyway, this post is not about linguistics, but communication. Lately it seems that lots of people just suck at it.
The caterer we hired for our wedding is very nice, eager, and competent, except that he never emails when he says he will. Twice now he's said he'll send us the menu over email and he hasn't.
A tailor that my betrothed was trying to get to make her dress kept saying she would get back to her, but never did. So she's moved on to other options
I fired my realtor because she was taking too long to get back to me. The last time it took her six days to respond to an email about setting up an appointment to meet. Then her suggestion was a week later than when I wanted to meet. This made it difficult for me to plan things. I have a life outside my realtor, you know.
(When I told my realtor I was going to "go in a different direction"-- a euphemism I've encountered all too often in job rejection letters-- she responded within two hours. Oh, I guess THAT got your attention! She said she was shocked and sad to hear this news. I almost responded, but decided it was best to just let the conversation die. Two days later, she called me on my cell while I was out buying groceries. I had a very uncomfortable conversation with her in the parking lot of the supermarket. Her daughter has cancer and that's why she was preoccupied. I'm very sorry to hear about your daughter, but I really just wanted to get my house ready to sell.)
Another professional contact took five days to get back to me, apologized for the delay and promised to be more responsive in the future. I responded, he responded with a quick, "I will get back to you shortly." Then it took four more days for him to respond.
When I was shopping around for a new realtor, I emailed someone who had been recommended to me. She never responded. It's been two and a half weeks and she totally ignored my initial message. Not even to say, "Sorry, but I don't have time to take you on."
So there seems to be a case of incommunicado going around. (And I realize that I'm not using that word entirely correctly. Officially it means someone who's not able to communicate, not someone who's just too busy to.) It really does seem weird that so many people are so bad at simple communication. I wonder if it has to do with modes of communication. My preferred method is email, but maybe lots of people, especially people who don't sit at a desk all day, don't see it as very urgent. Another theory is that people are just too damn busy these days. [Shakes fist at computer like an angry old man.]
My high school English teacher used to say that millions of dollars are lost every year in business due to poor communication. I can think of some specific businesses that have lost some of my money for that very reason.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Portmandia
I'm always a little bit behind the times, but let's talk about the news last week that Ohio Republican Senator Rob Portman has changed his mind on gay rights. Because his son came out to him, now Portman believes that homosexuals are human beings who deserve the same rights as everyone else.
While I want to give Portman credit for owning up to his previous homophobia and doing the right thing-- plenty of other high-profile conservatives have been in the same situation but have not had the same "come (out) to Jesus" moment-- it's hard for me to give him major props for simply becoming a decent human being.
When I first heard this news on the radio, my reaction was not, "Yay for him!" but rather, "Why is it that Republicans only seem to care about social issues when they are personally affected by it?"
This, to me, seems to be a crucial difference between conservatives and liberals. Liberals try empathize with minorities and others who are less fortunate-- they fight for rights not because it helps them personally, but because it's the right thing to do, and it makes the whole country better when the "least" of us (as Jesus said) are taken care of. Conservatives only seem to get interested in social issues when it affects them or someone close to them.
These were my own thoughts, but I was glad to see others had these same ideas, and said them much more eloquently. From a post about Portman by Steve Benen on The MaddowBlog:
Perhaps.
But I also realize that, as a liberal, we have to accept some amount of waste in order to get the benefits of social programs. I'd rather err on the side of helping those who need help rather than on the side of denying people who take advantage.
 |
| "That's no homo, that's my son!" |
While I want to give Portman credit for owning up to his previous homophobia and doing the right thing-- plenty of other high-profile conservatives have been in the same situation but have not had the same "come (out) to Jesus" moment-- it's hard for me to give him major props for simply becoming a decent human being.
When I first heard this news on the radio, my reaction was not, "Yay for him!" but rather, "Why is it that Republicans only seem to care about social issues when they are personally affected by it?"
This, to me, seems to be a crucial difference between conservatives and liberals. Liberals try empathize with minorities and others who are less fortunate-- they fight for rights not because it helps them personally, but because it's the right thing to do, and it makes the whole country better when the "least" of us (as Jesus said) are taken care of. Conservatives only seem to get interested in social issues when it affects them or someone close to them.
These were my own thoughts, but I was glad to see others had these same ideas, and said them much more eloquently. From a post about Portman by Steve Benen on The MaddowBlog:
We've seen this a few too many times. A Republican will support Medicaid cuts right up until he sees the program up close, with his own eyes. Republicans will be skeptical about federal disaster relief right up until it's their community that sees devastation. Republicans are prepared to deny basic rights based on sexual orientation, right up until it's their loved one who's gay.To be fair (fairness is another liberal value), I've often wondered if the reverse also isn't true. There might indeed be life experiences that would make me more conservative. If I were to meet more people who depend on social programs, perhaps I would see a lot of waste and inefficiency. I'm sure there are people who take advantage of the system and who make lots of bad choices that would drive me nuts, and if I dealt with that every day, perhaps I wouldn't be such a huge supporter of "wasteful" government programs.
It seems the key to American social progress in the 21st century is simple: more conservatives having more life experiences.
Indeed, I'd be glad to introduce Republican lawmakers to more Americans who are poor, in the hopes they'll stop trying to cut health care programs; students, in the hopes they'll stop opposing education investments; women, in the hopes they'll stop opposing women's health care; and African Americans, in the hopes that they'll stop supporting voter-suppression tactics.
Perhaps.
But I also realize that, as a liberal, we have to accept some amount of waste in order to get the benefits of social programs. I'd rather err on the side of helping those who need help rather than on the side of denying people who take advantage.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
I Paid For It
I'm not a big buyer of books. I read a lot, but I usually get my books through the network of libraries I belong to/work at. The exception are books that I really like and I want to reward the author with a purchase (David Sedaris, Bill Bryson, Elizabeth Gilbert) or books that are too risque to be found in the library (Dan Savage.)
Under normal circumstances I never would have paid money for a book called Paying For It: a comic strip memoir about being a john by Canadian cartoonist Chester Brown.
What happened is that as I walked past a book store a while back, something in the window caught my eye. It appeared to be an atlas of all the lands in Game of Thrones. (Actually the book series is called A Song of Fire and Ice, with Game of Thrones being the first book, but no one recognizes the series name, and plus it's stupid. "Game of Thrones" sounds way better.) As I've become obsessed with that world over the past few months, my betrothed encouraged me to buy the atlas. I don't usually make such brash impulse purchases like that, but I threw caution (and $40) to the wind and bought the atlas.
It was a huge disappointment. It wasn't actually an atlas but 10 maps folded into two sleeves. Although the maps looked pretty, they didn't really give me any more information than the maps in the books do, and each map was a separate poster that I'd have to unfold individually to look at. Each individual map was not easily labeled so it was hard to keep them straight. I would have much preferred a real atlas that I could page through.
So with buyer's remorse I returned to the book store. They wouldn't give me a cash refund, though, just store credit. This was a fantasy/comic book store, so my options were limited. When my eyes fell to Brown's comic memoir about paying for sex, I liked the tiny pictures and neat script, and was intrigued about the subject matter. So I "paid for" the book, although I was really just using my store credit. Does that count?
+++++
So let's talk about prostitution, shall we? Brown's memoir is a mix of personal discovery, philosophy, and advocacy. As he discovers and navigates the world of prostitution, he gets in lots of arguments with his friends about the ethics and legality of what he's doing.
Let me start with where Brown and I agree. Like him, I think prostitution should be legal. Women (and men) should have the right to sell such services if they freely choose to do so.
However, that's about the extent of our agreement. I think prostitution should be legalized and regulated, so as to protect those in the industry from abuse, harassment, and being taken advantage of. Brown, whose libertarian tendencies become more and more apparent as the book goes on, thinks it should only be "decriminalized." Like most libertarians, he trusts government regulation less than he trusts pimps.
Brown's personal story of how he came to become a john is kind of sad. Basically, he can't handle being in a romantic relationship because relationships are full of messy emotions where people sometimes have bad feelings. He associates romantic love with pain, and therefore decides not to have any more girlfriends. Throughout the book he posits immature, cynical, and sad observations about love. (i.e. love and marriage are "evil.")
So what about sex? How can he get sex if he's not willing to put in the work toward a real relationship? His solution comes about in a slow evolution toward prostitution. He can simply pay someone for that service. And so the story winds through the dozens of different prostitutes that Brown patronizes over several years.
[Mild spoiler alert. I talk about the end of the book below. It's not a huge surprise ending, but if you plan to read it yourself, I'm giving away the, ahem, "anticlimactic" ending in the next paragraph.]
Unfortunately, the story sort of fizzles out at the end. After several years of sampling, Brown finds one prostitute whom he feels a strong connection with and stops seeing any others. They have been in a "monogamous sexual relationship for years." He pays her for sex, and loves her (though he is not "in love" with her), but never explains their unusual brand of monogamy. I understand he wants to protect her identity (he changes all prostitutes' names in the book), but he seems to gloss over one of the most interesting parts of the book. How does he manage to create a monogamous relationship with someone he pays for sex? Does that mean she doesn't have sex with any other men, either for money or for free? Does he completely support her financially, or does she have a day job? He leaves the reader begging for details.
+++++
Although I agree with Brown's main point that selling sex should not be a crime, so many of the arguments he makes in the book are annoying. I don't personally have a problem with him seeing prostitutes. If he's fulfilled, and the women are happy to get his money, then good for everyone involved. In the book, most of his friends judge him for paying for sex. If I were his friend, I don't think I'd be judgy--I'd like to hear more about his exploits. (Like many men, I do find the idea of paying for sex titillating. I could just pay a hot young woman to have sex with me? Maybe because I'm perpetually a 14-year-old boy who's still amazed that any woman would have sex with me for any reason, this idea intrigues me.) But while Brown is arguing for legalization (or "decriminalization") of prostitution, he seems to be trying really hard to convince his friends and readers (and maybe himself) that what he's doing is not wrong. So much of the book feels like a personal plea for acceptance.
It's in the appendix where Brown's most obnoxious arguments come out. Besides strawman arguments of extreme feminist positions, cynical rants against love, and the naive libertarian belief in an unregulated free market, some of his views are just bizarre.
Brown claims that there is no moral difference between a wife having sex with her husband out of marital commitment and a prostitute having sex with a john for money. There may not be any moral difference, but there certainly is an emotional difference. It's not all about morality.
Brown's not content to just legalize (and commercialize) prostitution, he wants to normalize it. In one passage he envisions a future Utopia where prostitution has been legal for generations. In the enlightened year of 2080, it's perfectly normal for a guy to offer any woman he knows money for sex. Most men and women have done it-- it's just like dating. Women don't find this offensive, and if they're not interested they just say no. Everyone's in complete control and no one is harmed or offended. And the only thing stopping this beautiful arrangement? The evil government!
But here's the thing. There are lots of services that are legal and normal now, and I would find it highly tacky to ask a friend or a co-worker to do it for me. "Hey, could I give you $20 to wash my car?" It has nothing to do with morality or legality, it's just creepy. Why wouldn't it be the same for sex? Reducing sex to a commodity where everyone buys or sells it is not a world I want to live in. Although I'm fine with people paying for sex, I still want the main motivation for doing it to be love, affection, or mutual pleasure. (Incidentally, sex for mutual pleasure seems to be conspicuously absent from any of Brown's points.) Brown's dream to normalize paid sex seems to undercut any rational points he does make in the book, because he comes across as a crazy person.
Under normal circumstances I never would have paid money for a book called Paying For It: a comic strip memoir about being a john by Canadian cartoonist Chester Brown.
What happened is that as I walked past a book store a while back, something in the window caught my eye. It appeared to be an atlas of all the lands in Game of Thrones. (Actually the book series is called A Song of Fire and Ice, with Game of Thrones being the first book, but no one recognizes the series name, and plus it's stupid. "Game of Thrones" sounds way better.) As I've become obsessed with that world over the past few months, my betrothed encouraged me to buy the atlas. I don't usually make such brash impulse purchases like that, but I threw caution (and $40) to the wind and bought the atlas.
It was a huge disappointment. It wasn't actually an atlas but 10 maps folded into two sleeves. Although the maps looked pretty, they didn't really give me any more information than the maps in the books do, and each map was a separate poster that I'd have to unfold individually to look at. Each individual map was not easily labeled so it was hard to keep them straight. I would have much preferred a real atlas that I could page through.
So with buyer's remorse I returned to the book store. They wouldn't give me a cash refund, though, just store credit. This was a fantasy/comic book store, so my options were limited. When my eyes fell to Brown's comic memoir about paying for sex, I liked the tiny pictures and neat script, and was intrigued about the subject matter. So I "paid for" the book, although I was really just using my store credit. Does that count?
+++++
So let's talk about prostitution, shall we? Brown's memoir is a mix of personal discovery, philosophy, and advocacy. As he discovers and navigates the world of prostitution, he gets in lots of arguments with his friends about the ethics and legality of what he's doing.
Let me start with where Brown and I agree. Like him, I think prostitution should be legal. Women (and men) should have the right to sell such services if they freely choose to do so.
However, that's about the extent of our agreement. I think prostitution should be legalized and regulated, so as to protect those in the industry from abuse, harassment, and being taken advantage of. Brown, whose libertarian tendencies become more and more apparent as the book goes on, thinks it should only be "decriminalized." Like most libertarians, he trusts government regulation less than he trusts pimps.
Brown's personal story of how he came to become a john is kind of sad. Basically, he can't handle being in a romantic relationship because relationships are full of messy emotions where people sometimes have bad feelings. He associates romantic love with pain, and therefore decides not to have any more girlfriends. Throughout the book he posits immature, cynical, and sad observations about love. (i.e. love and marriage are "evil.")
So what about sex? How can he get sex if he's not willing to put in the work toward a real relationship? His solution comes about in a slow evolution toward prostitution. He can simply pay someone for that service. And so the story winds through the dozens of different prostitutes that Brown patronizes over several years.
[Mild spoiler alert. I talk about the end of the book below. It's not a huge surprise ending, but if you plan to read it yourself, I'm giving away the, ahem, "anticlimactic" ending in the next paragraph.]
Unfortunately, the story sort of fizzles out at the end. After several years of sampling, Brown finds one prostitute whom he feels a strong connection with and stops seeing any others. They have been in a "monogamous sexual relationship for years." He pays her for sex, and loves her (though he is not "in love" with her), but never explains their unusual brand of monogamy. I understand he wants to protect her identity (he changes all prostitutes' names in the book), but he seems to gloss over one of the most interesting parts of the book. How does he manage to create a monogamous relationship with someone he pays for sex? Does that mean she doesn't have sex with any other men, either for money or for free? Does he completely support her financially, or does she have a day job? He leaves the reader begging for details.
+++++
Although I agree with Brown's main point that selling sex should not be a crime, so many of the arguments he makes in the book are annoying. I don't personally have a problem with him seeing prostitutes. If he's fulfilled, and the women are happy to get his money, then good for everyone involved. In the book, most of his friends judge him for paying for sex. If I were his friend, I don't think I'd be judgy--I'd like to hear more about his exploits. (Like many men, I do find the idea of paying for sex titillating. I could just pay a hot young woman to have sex with me? Maybe because I'm perpetually a 14-year-old boy who's still amazed that any woman would have sex with me for any reason, this idea intrigues me.) But while Brown is arguing for legalization (or "decriminalization") of prostitution, he seems to be trying really hard to convince his friends and readers (and maybe himself) that what he's doing is not wrong. So much of the book feels like a personal plea for acceptance.
 |
| One reviewer mentioned that all the faces of the prostitutes in his book are obscured, which dehumanizes them. I thought it was to protect their identity |
It's in the appendix where Brown's most obnoxious arguments come out. Besides strawman arguments of extreme feminist positions, cynical rants against love, and the naive libertarian belief in an unregulated free market, some of his views are just bizarre.
Brown claims that there is no moral difference between a wife having sex with her husband out of marital commitment and a prostitute having sex with a john for money. There may not be any moral difference, but there certainly is an emotional difference. It's not all about morality.
Brown's not content to just legalize (and commercialize) prostitution, he wants to normalize it. In one passage he envisions a future Utopia where prostitution has been legal for generations. In the enlightened year of 2080, it's perfectly normal for a guy to offer any woman he knows money for sex. Most men and women have done it-- it's just like dating. Women don't find this offensive, and if they're not interested they just say no. Everyone's in complete control and no one is harmed or offended. And the only thing stopping this beautiful arrangement? The evil government!
But here's the thing. There are lots of services that are legal and normal now, and I would find it highly tacky to ask a friend or a co-worker to do it for me. "Hey, could I give you $20 to wash my car?" It has nothing to do with morality or legality, it's just creepy. Why wouldn't it be the same for sex? Reducing sex to a commodity where everyone buys or sells it is not a world I want to live in. Although I'm fine with people paying for sex, I still want the main motivation for doing it to be love, affection, or mutual pleasure. (Incidentally, sex for mutual pleasure seems to be conspicuously absent from any of Brown's points.) Brown's dream to normalize paid sex seems to undercut any rational points he does make in the book, because he comes across as a crazy person.
 |
| It's scary how much he looks like his drawings. Despite this and some of his twisted (and damaged) attitudes toward relationships, he seems like a nice person who wants to do the right thing. Or at least wants to be fair. |
Sunday, February 24, 2013
grumble grumble february
At the risk of getting my ass kicked, I think I have a case of the Februaries.
It may have started when I got a rejection letter from a job I was putting most of my hopes on. Of all the positions I've applied for in preparation for my upcoming nuptials/move to Chicago, this was the one I was most qualified for. They rejected me without even an interview. I can only think of three explanations for this: 1.) they had several internal candidates and they couldn't bother with bringing in someone from out of town, 2.) there's a bias against rural downstate applicants (people in Chicagoland don't take anyone south of I-80 seriously), or 3.) I suck.
Whenever I get a rejection letter for a job (I've received 10 of them in the past year), this is the voice I hear in my head:
REJECTED!!! RE...RE... REJECTED!!! Ba-Boom! REJECTED!!!
I've started to replace the mantra I used to have when I was single-- "No one will ever love me"-- with a new job-seeker's version: "No one will ever hire me."
But the jobsearch is not my only symptom of The Februaries. I've been irritable and have been picking fights with everyone, even other drivers. I've had several highway incidents this month that have left me in a bad mood.
My betrothed and I have had 2.5 fights this month (two fights and one intense discussion), which is odd because we hardly ever have any disagreements. I felt a lot better, however, when I discovered that other couples we know have also fought in the middle of Crate & Barrel over wedding registries.
My amazing tennis winning streak has ended and I'm sliding into another February tennis slump. This weekend I played in a tournament. I lost my first match but won my second. As if to mock me, I received a trophy for it. I was the "Consolation Winner." There were five guys in my bracket, and because I beat the worst guy, I got a trophy. I really didn't want it, but it would have been rude to refuse it.
Today I noticed in the mirror that I have a lot of gray hairs on the left side of my head. I don't know why just that side. Maybe it's the latest manifestation of my leftitis, my vague annual winter ailment.
To give you a good idea of what this month has been like, perhaps the highlight was going to a funeral. I got to see my brother and sisters and mom and we laughed while texting with our oldest brother.
There's just been this dark cloud hanging over me all month. It's cold and I'm ready for spring. I have no confidence and keep feeling like no one likes me, despite evidence against it. I'm not as excited about things as I usually am.
I know that my life is good. I'm healthy, safe, well-fed, loved, and spoiled. It's just that February often gets me down. I'll be better once Spring starts. Winter can suck it.
It may have started when I got a rejection letter from a job I was putting most of my hopes on. Of all the positions I've applied for in preparation for my upcoming nuptials/move to Chicago, this was the one I was most qualified for. They rejected me without even an interview. I can only think of three explanations for this: 1.) they had several internal candidates and they couldn't bother with bringing in someone from out of town, 2.) there's a bias against rural downstate applicants (people in Chicagoland don't take anyone south of I-80 seriously), or 3.) I suck.
Whenever I get a rejection letter for a job (I've received 10 of them in the past year), this is the voice I hear in my head:
REJECTED!!! RE...RE... REJECTED!!! Ba-Boom! REJECTED!!!
I've started to replace the mantra I used to have when I was single-- "No one will ever love me"-- with a new job-seeker's version: "No one will ever hire me."
But the jobsearch is not my only symptom of The Februaries. I've been irritable and have been picking fights with everyone, even other drivers. I've had several highway incidents this month that have left me in a bad mood.
My betrothed and I have had 2.5 fights this month (two fights and one intense discussion), which is odd because we hardly ever have any disagreements. I felt a lot better, however, when I discovered that other couples we know have also fought in the middle of Crate & Barrel over wedding registries.
 |
| Why do they have 17,000 different styles of silverware? |
My amazing tennis winning streak has ended and I'm sliding into another February tennis slump. This weekend I played in a tournament. I lost my first match but won my second. As if to mock me, I received a trophy for it. I was the "Consolation Winner." There were five guys in my bracket, and because I beat the worst guy, I got a trophy. I really didn't want it, but it would have been rude to refuse it.
 |
| ARGH. Although I've rotated and saved this pic four fucking times, I can't get it to show up here with the right orientation. I blame February. |
Today I noticed in the mirror that I have a lot of gray hairs on the left side of my head. I don't know why just that side. Maybe it's the latest manifestation of my leftitis, my vague annual winter ailment.
To give you a good idea of what this month has been like, perhaps the highlight was going to a funeral. I got to see my brother and sisters and mom and we laughed while texting with our oldest brother.
There's just been this dark cloud hanging over me all month. It's cold and I'm ready for spring. I have no confidence and keep feeling like no one likes me, despite evidence against it. I'm not as excited about things as I usually am.
I know that my life is good. I'm healthy, safe, well-fed, loved, and spoiled. It's just that February often gets me down. I'll be better once Spring starts. Winter can suck it.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Highway Harassment
The white van. That motherfucking, annoying, asshole, douchenozzle white van. It refused-- absolutely refused-- to move over into the right lane. For 20 miles-- at least the 20 miles it cruised in and out of my site on the highway-- it clogged up traffic in the left lane as cars would line up behind it. Eventually the car behind it would realize the asshole was never going to move over and pass it on the right. Then the next car would do the same. This wasn't easy, though, because occasionally a slower car would be blocking the right lane. Also, the sonofobitch white van would vary its speed, sometimes speeding up just as people would try to pass it.
 |
| The fate I fantasized for the white van |
That passage about the white van has been sitting in my drafts folder since last year. I decided to dust it off and post it in honor of February, which appears to be Annoying Highway Drivers Month. Twice in the past two weeks I've encountered drivers like the white van. Last week I actually got into an altercation with one.
As I was driving home from work on the highway, this SUV from TX would not leave me alone. They’d drive along in my blind spot, not passing or slowing down. I’d speed up, they’d speed up. I’d slow down, they’d slow down. Finally I jerked my car as if I was going into their lane, just so they’d see how dangerous it is to drive in my blind spot. They drove up next to me and gave me nasty hand signals. I motioned for them to pass me, but instead they intentionally messed with me for miles and miles, staying with me and not letting me pass slow vehicles. They thought it was a game. I almost called 911 to report highway harassment, but I don’t know if that’s a thing. Finally I just took an exit off the highway and let them drive on by. I got back on the highway a minute later. I don’t know what else I could have done, but the whole experience put me in a foul mood.
 |
| I hate it when there's a rhinoceros in my blind spot |
+++++
The thing is, I think those cars like the TX SUV and the white van-- ahem, the motherfucking white van-- are the exception. For the most part, people are competent drivers. Which actually astounds me. I'm amazed at how few accidents there are, considering what clumsy, selfish, dumb, inefficient animals we can be. How often do you spill your coffee, stub your toe, or bump into someone? How often do I miss an easy shot in tennis? And yet each of us gets to be in charge of a 2,000-pound piece of machinery moving at 70 miles per hour? And we're supposed to operate these things in conjunction with each other? How is it possible that we're NOT constantly crashing into each other on the road? How do we ever reach our destination?
 |
| Why don't our highways look like this all the time? |
Clearly we have a pretty good system in place. We have rules designed for courtesy, efficiency, and safety, and most people make a good faith effort to follow those. When I'm away from the moment, out of the hellish experience of sharing the road with someone who refuses to obey those rules, I understand that for the most part, people are good drivers. If we weren't, the system wouldn't work.
There are lots of other cars on the road that frustrate me, usually because we have different levels of urgency, space, anticipation, courtesy, or what the speed limit actually means. I can logically and objectively understand this, even after I've just cursed them out for being in my way.
The incident last week made me realize that I need to take a step back from the road rage and be more patient on the highway. You can't control other people, even when (or maybe because) they're being asshats. I just need to lower my expectations and avoid such situations as much as possible.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Fascinating Feud
Identical twin girls were born on the Fourth of July, 1918. Esther Pauline Friedman would be known as "Eppie" and her younger sister (by 17 minutes), Pauline Esther Friedman, would go by "Popo."
In 1939 the two girls, at the age of 21, got married in a double wedding ceremony. Eppie became Esther Pauline Lederer, and her sister became Pauline Esther Phillips.
In 1955, Esther Pauline took a different name, Ann Landers, when she inherited an advice column started by the late Ruth Crowley. The new Ann would become wildly popular and revolutionize newspaper advice columns. By the time her column ended 47 years later, with her death in 2002, she was a household name.
Perhaps the only other advice columnist with as much name recognition as Ann Landers during that time was that of Abigail Van Buren. Van Buren was the pen name of none other than Pauline Esther Phillips, Eppie's twin sister. For 46 years her column, Dear Abby, rivaled that of her sister's.
Even more striking than the two most popular advice columnists of the 20th-century being twins is the fact that for most of those years, they were estranged. It started when, according to Wikipedia: "Phillips says that because she applied for the columnist job without notifying her sister first, it created bad feelings between them for many years." They had a public reconciliation some years later, but the feud seemed to continue, off and on, until Lederer (Esther Pauline/Eppie/Ann Landers) died in 2002.
It's amazing that although they counseled thousands of people on family relationships, they couldn't get along with their own sister. And the few things I read about the feud just seem petty and childish. For example, they bicker over whether the other's column is any good, and one of them publicly criticized the other one for how old she looked. Of course, it's possible the media just played up their feud because it was more interesting. But it's also credible that two talented sisters with a shared history and genetics would also share a drive to be successful, and that would make them very competitive with each other.
I think it would have been funny to have written a letter to each of their columns seeking advice about my contentious relationship with my twin, and see if either of them would have answered it.
As if the irony of two of America's most beloved advice-givers not being able to follow their own advice isn't enough, the story continues after their death. Each of the twins had a daughter. And both of those daughters also became advice columnists. Eppie's daughter, Margo Howard,writes the popular Slate.com column Dear Prudence wrote the Slate.com column Dear Prudence, until it was taken over by Emily Yoffe in 2006. And Pauline's daughter, Jeanne Phillips, took over her mom's column in 2002, and continues to play Dear Abby.
And the daughters-- cousins to each other-- have continued the feud. After Eppie's death in 2002, the two traded swipes at each other in the media.
It all sounds like a bad soap opera.
I'm surprised that more has not been made of this amazing story. You'd think there'd be a book or a movie or a mini-series about the whole thing. There is one book from 1987: Dear Ann, Dear Abby: The Unauthorized Biography of Ann Landers and Abigail Van Buren by Janice Pottker and Bob Speziale. But that book is over 25 years old, and the title makes it sound kind of trashy. A lot has happened since then.
The only other work I've heard of that covers this amazing story is a 2006 play by David Rambo called "The Lady With All the Answers."
Incidentally, and mostly unrelated, one of my favorite current advice columnists, Dan Savage, bought Ann Landers' desk at an auction after she died.
In 1939 the two girls, at the age of 21, got married in a double wedding ceremony. Eppie became Esther Pauline Lederer, and her sister became Pauline Esther Phillips.
 |
| Some random double wedding-- NOT the Friedman twins. |
In 1955, Esther Pauline took a different name, Ann Landers, when she inherited an advice column started by the late Ruth Crowley. The new Ann would become wildly popular and revolutionize newspaper advice columns. By the time her column ended 47 years later, with her death in 2002, she was a household name.
 |
| The dashing Ann Landers in 1961 |
Perhaps the only other advice columnist with as much name recognition as Ann Landers during that time was that of Abigail Van Buren. Van Buren was the pen name of none other than Pauline Esther Phillips, Eppie's twin sister. For 46 years her column, Dear Abby, rivaled that of her sister's.
 |
| Dear Abby in 1961 |
Even more striking than the two most popular advice columnists of the 20th-century being twins is the fact that for most of those years, they were estranged. It started when, according to Wikipedia: "Phillips says that because she applied for the columnist job without notifying her sister first, it created bad feelings between them for many years." They had a public reconciliation some years later, but the feud seemed to continue, off and on, until Lederer (Esther Pauline/Eppie/Ann Landers) died in 2002.
 |
| The two sisters getting along in public |
I think it would have been funny to have written a letter to each of their columns seeking advice about my contentious relationship with my twin, and see if either of them would have answered it.
As if the irony of two of America's most beloved advice-givers not being able to follow their own advice isn't enough, the story continues after their death. Each of the twins had a daughter. And both of those daughters also became advice columnists. Eppie's daughter, Margo Howard,
 |
| Not Eppie's daughter, but Emily Yoffe, who took over the column in 2006. Jeezus, all these names are hard to keep straight. |
 |
| Popo' daughter. I didn't realize this wasn't the original Abby. When I was a kid, that's the picture of Abby I remember. |
And the daughters-- cousins to each other-- have continued the feud. After Eppie's death in 2002, the two traded swipes at each other in the media.
It all sounds like a bad soap opera.
I'm surprised that more has not been made of this amazing story. You'd think there'd be a book or a movie or a mini-series about the whole thing. There is one book from 1987: Dear Ann, Dear Abby: The Unauthorized Biography of Ann Landers and Abigail Van Buren by Janice Pottker and Bob Speziale. But that book is over 25 years old, and the title makes it sound kind of trashy. A lot has happened since then.
 |
| Scandalous! I may try to read it anyway. |
The only other work I've heard of that covers this amazing story is a 2006 play by David Rambo called "The Lady With All the Answers."
Incidentally, and mostly unrelated, one of my favorite current advice columnists, Dan Savage, bought Ann Landers' desk at an auction after she died.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Tipping for Jeezus
Imagine you're a server at a national restaurant chain, working your ass off, making around $2 an hour, depending on tips for the bulk of your income. Then you get a receipt like this one:
The server who received this receipt showed it to another server, who took a picture of it and posted it on the web, with the snarky line, "I'm sure Jesus will pay for my rent and groceries." While I appreciate the pro-active shaming of this obnoxious customer, I have to admit it is a gross violation of privacy, especially since posting someone's signature online can lead to identity theft.
The picture went viral.
The Pastor complained to the restaurant-- Applebee's-- and the server who posted the receipt (who was not the one who was stiffed) got fired for violating their customer privacy policy, which set off a brand-new shit storm.
Suddenly the story shifted from a rude customer not tipping to a PR nightmare for Applebee's. The intarwebz, where everyone loves to get angry and judgy, jumped down Applebee's throat. When the restaurant chain tried to respond, it only made things worse and fanned the flames.
++++
This fascinating story touches on so many different issues: tipping etiquette, rude customers, religion, privacy, social media, PR nightmares...
Here's a good summary of the story, along with a discussion on privacy issues in the Web 2.0:
Big Op-Ed: When Private Comments Go Very Public
I've been obsessed with this story for several days now. All issues of privacy and PR aside, I wanted to get more into this Pastor's head and see what she was possibly thinking to write such an ignorant thing on a receipt.
I find the whole God thing ridiculously offensive. You don't give "God" your 10% (AKA tithing), you give it to your church. (And if you're a pastor, and the church pays your salary, then aren't you sort of just giving that money back to yourself? How Jesus-like is that?) God doesn't give a damn about your money, and I'm sure if there is a loving benevolent God, he would much prefer you honor him by paying the people who serve you.
But the really obnoxious thing is that she felt the need to add "Pastor" to her signature. Is that supposed to impress, or show how she's entitled to stiff the waitress, or what?
This pastor's local TV station gave her a chance to explain herself in a 9-minute interview here:
The interview is a huge disappointment and the interviewer does a terrible job. She's sympathetic to Ms. Bell, which is fine, but she goes so far that she doesn't ask any questions that will make her look more sympathetic to the general public. It ends up making her look worse. When Bell explains that she did, indeed, tip the waitress 18%-- TWICE, in fact-- the interviewer reacts with a tone that says, "Well, that's that! Why would everyone yell at you for that?" I was confused by her assertion that she did tip. You tipped twice? Why? How? Clearly it's crossed-off on the receipt. If you paid cash, then why write the nasty note?
Ms. Bell repeats throughout the interview that is was a "lapse in judgment" and that her biggest regret is that her actions reflected poorly on God. She mentions how she's received hateful emails of people calling her a hypocrite. There are lots of questions I'd like to ask her, but one of them is: does she understand WHY people are reacting this way? Can she explain what specifically was so repugnant about the comment on her receipt? Because after nine minutes of explaining herself, it's still not clear to me that she understands.
The only question the interviewer asks that I really wanted to know is, "What have you learned from this experience?" Her only answer is that she'll never write on a receipt again. That's totally not the point. (It reminds me of the episode of South Park where all the Catholic bishops decry the "problem" of all these molested kids coming forward. Um, one priest points out, the problem is not that these kids are coming forward, the problem is that they are being molested.)
You'd think that after such an ordeal, the Pastor would at the very least have answered the rhetorical question she so snottily wrote on the receipt. Why does the server get 18%? Does she understand the economics of how servers are paid? Does she think that people deserve to be paid for their work?
In the end, getting a glimpse into Pastor Bell's mind was unfulfilling. Sadly, the Pastor just comes across as stupid and immature in the interview. Which, I suppose, is what you would expect from someone who did something like that in the first place. As an educator, I would at least hope this would have been a learning experience for her.
I'll end with a fun article that discusses the relationship of tithing to tipping:
My Name Is Jehovah, and I’ll Be Taking Care of You Tonight
 |
| The 18% tip is crossed off, with the note, "I give God 10% Why do you get 18" (sic). On top of her signature she's added the title "Pastor." |
The server who received this receipt showed it to another server, who took a picture of it and posted it on the web, with the snarky line, "I'm sure Jesus will pay for my rent and groceries." While I appreciate the pro-active shaming of this obnoxious customer, I have to admit it is a gross violation of privacy, especially since posting someone's signature online can lead to identity theft.
The picture went viral.
The Pastor complained to the restaurant-- Applebee's-- and the server who posted the receipt (who was not the one who was stiffed) got fired for violating their customer privacy policy, which set off a brand-new shit storm.
Suddenly the story shifted from a rude customer not tipping to a PR nightmare for Applebee's. The intarwebz, where everyone loves to get angry and judgy, jumped down Applebee's throat. When the restaurant chain tried to respond, it only made things worse and fanned the flames.
++++
This fascinating story touches on so many different issues: tipping etiquette, rude customers, religion, privacy, social media, PR nightmares...
Here's a good summary of the story, along with a discussion on privacy issues in the Web 2.0:
Big Op-Ed: When Private Comments Go Very Public
I've been obsessed with this story for several days now. All issues of privacy and PR aside, I wanted to get more into this Pastor's head and see what she was possibly thinking to write such an ignorant thing on a receipt.
I find the whole God thing ridiculously offensive. You don't give "God" your 10% (AKA tithing), you give it to your church. (And if you're a pastor, and the church pays your salary, then aren't you sort of just giving that money back to yourself? How Jesus-like is that?) God doesn't give a damn about your money, and I'm sure if there is a loving benevolent God, he would much prefer you honor him by paying the people who serve you.
But the really obnoxious thing is that she felt the need to add "Pastor" to her signature. Is that supposed to impress, or show how she's entitled to stiff the waitress, or what?
This pastor's local TV station gave her a chance to explain herself in a 9-minute interview here:
The interview is a huge disappointment and the interviewer does a terrible job. She's sympathetic to Ms. Bell, which is fine, but she goes so far that she doesn't ask any questions that will make her look more sympathetic to the general public. It ends up making her look worse. When Bell explains that she did, indeed, tip the waitress 18%-- TWICE, in fact-- the interviewer reacts with a tone that says, "Well, that's that! Why would everyone yell at you for that?" I was confused by her assertion that she did tip. You tipped twice? Why? How? Clearly it's crossed-off on the receipt. If you paid cash, then why write the nasty note?
Ms. Bell repeats throughout the interview that is was a "lapse in judgment" and that her biggest regret is that her actions reflected poorly on God. She mentions how she's received hateful emails of people calling her a hypocrite. There are lots of questions I'd like to ask her, but one of them is: does she understand WHY people are reacting this way? Can she explain what specifically was so repugnant about the comment on her receipt? Because after nine minutes of explaining herself, it's still not clear to me that she understands.
The only question the interviewer asks that I really wanted to know is, "What have you learned from this experience?" Her only answer is that she'll never write on a receipt again. That's totally not the point. (It reminds me of the episode of South Park where all the Catholic bishops decry the "problem" of all these molested kids coming forward. Um, one priest points out, the problem is not that these kids are coming forward, the problem is that they are being molested.)
You'd think that after such an ordeal, the Pastor would at the very least have answered the rhetorical question she so snottily wrote on the receipt. Why does the server get 18%? Does she understand the economics of how servers are paid? Does she think that people deserve to be paid for their work?
In the end, getting a glimpse into Pastor Bell's mind was unfulfilling. Sadly, the Pastor just comes across as stupid and immature in the interview. Which, I suppose, is what you would expect from someone who did something like that in the first place. As an educator, I would at least hope this would have been a learning experience for her.
I'll end with a fun article that discusses the relationship of tithing to tipping:
My Name Is Jehovah, and I’ll Be Taking Care of You Tonight
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