Ponderings and Musings

It hasn’t been quite 20 years since TVs started appearing en masse in restaurants. Prior to 9/11 it seemed rare to see a television in a diner or family restaurant. Televisions were usually relegated to pubs and sports bars and the like, but after 9/11, everyone was glued to the news and televisions started appearing everywhere. Moving from old CRT televisions to cheap flat panels certainly helped the cause.

Nowadays there’s a television seemingly everywhere you look.

Living in the third largest city in nation affords us plenty of occasion for adventure, and while we are out and about I enjoy reading up on restaurants, checking in, and leaving my impressions of the experience on Yelp. In fact, I’m an EliteYelp Reviewer for the 3rd year in a row. I don’t know what that means other than I get invited to nifty parties, but it’s kind of cool having that badge next to my name.

The content of programming on these ubiquitous televisions in restaurants and eateries weigh into my rating. I’m thinking if you insist on showing the news on the monitor hanging from the ceiling, you should probably be showing something fairly neutral, that is, if there is such a thing in the United States these days. MSNBC? Too biased. Fox News? Not even close. Local news coverage? I can handle it.

When I see all these televisions invading our gastronomic adventures I can’t help but think of George Orwell’s “1984”, where there television everywhere so Big Brother could command the masses.

It’s a little startling to think that some apparently thought “1984” was some sort of handbook or user’s manual.

I’m struggling to keep my phone in my pocket when we’re out and about, so I have a little extra time to notice all this news being beamed into our meal space.

Big or small, a tether is a tether.

I’ve decided to try taking a break from social media for a while. In a way this is a little ironic, because this post will appear on my Twitter timeline when I hit “Publish”, but I won’t actually have to get onto Twitter to post it, so technically I’m still taking a break from social media, because after all, are blog entries like this really considered social media?

Before the days of 140 characters, and the recent yet faux-verbosity of 280 characters, people used technology to extend their reach to others through things like these self-hosted personal blogs, LiveJournal, Blogger, and the like. You didn’t need to have a brand, though some folks tried to brand you based on what they read in your blog, you just did your thing in an attempt to reach out to likeminded individuals. Today folks bark. People use their allotted, finite number of characters to bark out their opinions. I’m certainly very guilty of this. I’ve said things online that I would never say to someone’s face.

This does not make me great. This makes me stupid.

I have to ask myself this: would I really flip off Trump in public? Well, the answer is probably yes, but I wouldn’t say the things I’ve said to members of his administration if I was face to face and looking them in the eye while saying it. I’d be a chicken shit, just like the other 95% of folks that do the same exact barking online, and then I’d go the other way. Because being an ass to someone to their face is not a part of greatness.

It’s an example of stupidity.

I’ve tacked a photo of former Arizona Governor Jan Brewer screeching at President Obama, finger waggling in her face, to my wall because I remember the outrage I felt when I saw her behave that way.

There was nothing great about that moment. Governor Brewer was grandstanding. She was making a big show of standing up to the president to rile up her base. We don’t need big shows. We need people trying to be their authentic self. We need to keep it real and we don’t need an audience to do it. So much puffing and chest pounding these days. It gets so nauseating.

Honestly, I just want to aspire to be me. That should be my focus. All of this grandstanding, and barking, and carrying on through social media accomplishes nothing. It helps gain notoriety and little else.

I don’t want to be notorious. I want to be great. I want to be great at being me.

Taking a look my weather app du jour, it is currently 0ºF with a wind chill of -11ºF. Not the coldest it’s been (by any means) this year, but we are less than three weeks from the meteorological beginning of spring and quite frankly I’m ready for some warmer weather.

On the bright side, the forecast warms up for the foreseeable future. It looks like by the end of this week it’ll start showing signs of spring and it’ll be in the mid 40s by next week.

That made my shorter-than-usual walk this morning a little more bearable.

I grew up on the Shazam/Isis Hour. It’s a shame that the lesson shared by Isis, way back in 1975, is as relevant and important today as it was back then. You’d think we’d know better by now.

Ps. Actress Joanna Cameron has one the best voices ever!

Please are sometimes surprised when they find out I don’t like elevators. They say, but you fly small airplanes miles above the ground, yet you’re nervous in elevators? The truth of is, yes, I don’t like elevators. Actually, I don’t mind elevators as much as I don’t like confined spaces. If I can see outside, I’m fine.

We live on the fifth floor of our building. I walk the stairs a lot but I also take the elevator at least once a day. I’d enjoy the experience a little more if it had a window, but I know every nuance of how this elevator works so I don’t sweat it too much.

Now, on two occasions I’ve been riding along with a “belt slipped” or something and the elevator rapidly dropped a couple of feet. The emergency brake snaps on, the panel lights and indicators do a quick reset and the elevator slowly descends to the closest floor. Pressing the open door button will then open the door or you can press the floor you’re going to again and it’ll try to sort things out. I’ve read several maintenance manuals on this particular brand and make of elevator (Kone EcoDisc) and a month or so ago I watched numerous videos of elevator geeks going up and down in broken versions of these elevators. They didn’t panic, so why should I, right?

I just don’t do well in confined spaces if I don’t know my way out. If I can see beyond the space I’m good, even if it’s through a small crack in the door or something.

That’s what I like about airplanes, I can see out all over the place. The only time I’ve ever not enjoyed an airplane flight is when I ended up in a row without a window.

You’ll never find me on an airplane where they substitute the windows with large LED screens to simulate the outside.

By the way, tunnels don’t bother me; I can see my way through and I know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I really want to drive through that 20+ mile tunnel in Europe.

In the meanwhile, I’ll keep riding up and down in our Kone Eco-Disc elevator to try to break this concern.

My father rarely cursed. My father was generally a man of few words, but when he did share verbal expressions of emotion he rarely swore. The closest things he would say that would come close to cursing was “Jumpin’ Mice” or “If it’s going to be a pain in the nuts…”, which the latter is probably more crass the cursing.

I followed his lead for the first two decades or so of my life and rarely swore. I can actually remember the first time I swore. It was 8th period gym class in 7th grade. I had dropped the watch from my grandfather’s estate between two lockers in the locker room and I was really bothered by it. When the teacher asked why I had put the watch in this precarious location I simply said to him, “I fucked up”. That was the first time I had swore to anyone other than myself and he instantly knew that I was really bothered by losing the watch left to me by my grandfather.

We successfully retrieved the watch.

It wasn’t until my radio days that I started a tendency of swearing like a sailor. It was the most effective way of communicating with the owners of the radio station because they were yelling and screaming most of the time. I can still remember my father’s wince when he asked why I wanted to leave that particular job and I replied, “because the owner is an asshole”. But the fact of the matter is, my language adapted to the situation because circumstances dictated that the only language they would take to heart was when someone yelled and swore at them. Then again I did witness the husband and wife team throwing a knife across the room during an argument, so swearing was probably the least of my problems at the time.

Michelle Obama famously said, “When they go low, we go high”. In a sane society, or at least in a society that doesn’t consider pajamas as an outfit to wear on an airliner, Ms. Obama’s declaration would be absolutely valid. But we live in a time and place where we are deeply, horribly divided. Truth, the validity of facts, and the elimination of a general moral compass has rapidly distorted our values. We are living in “the low”. To take the high road merely means to tell the truth now, and when bad actors no longer care about the truth, they’re sure not going to understand anything unless you lean hard on your intent, and that means dropping f-bombs to get people’s attention.

Look, I’m not a fan of talking like a sailor. I still have a microsecond of shock when David Rose drops a “fuck” on “Schitt’s Creek” or Patsy and Eddy drop all sorts of profanity of “Absolutely Fabulous”. But this is where society has taken us, and this is how our language is transforming to keep up with society.

A recent tweet passed by on my timeline criticizing the use of profanity on “The Circus” on Showtime. As host John Heilemann responded:

You've got to be fucking kidding. https://t.co/RiqG4OIco0

— John Heilemann (@jheil) February 17, 2019

My response? A super condensed version of what I’ve written in this blog post.

https://twitter.com/thatjpwing/status/1097219087137210370?s=21

I’m not going to walk into a church and start a “blue set” behind the mic at the pulpit. I’m not going to walk into a fancy restaurant and start swearing like a sailor nor am I going to begin a profanity laced litany in a room full of ladies (I still have an ounce of chivalry that I show once in a while).

But when it’s time to call the President of the United States a fucktard, I’m going to call him a fucktard.

It’s that time of year when I’m fighting off the SADs. I’ve been taking vitamins and trying to get as much sunshine as possible this year, but Seasonal Affectation Disorder hits me and I feel like doing nothing.

I keep trying to figure out a way for Earl and me to go on a quick weekend Jeep trip and head south, even if it’s just far enough to get into temperatures in the 40s.

There’s so much to do in the city, even in the winter, and I try to keep busy, but sometimes that wind is just so cold and brutal, the sky is cloudy and gray, and there isn’t an opportunity to fly or really enjoy a nice walk along our neighborhood streets.

I’d give anything to reasonably ride a bike right now.

I do see cyclists everyday, no matter the weather. Even when we had historic lows a couple of weeks ago, someone would go riding by on their bicycle, headed to wherever they were going. I love the fact that Chicago is such a cyclist friendly city. Because there’s some crazy cyclists out there.

I’m sure warmer weather isn’t too far off; we’re only a few weeks away from the beginning of Daylight Saving Time (don’t get me started on that).

I’ll be happy when spring finally arrives.