When you are surrounded by love, you’ve got it made.
George.
I was watching music videos with the owner of the local record store. It was 1985 or so and MTV was running a bunch of Wham! videos in a row. My ears told me that the whomever was writing the pop harmonies of these imported tunes from the UK was very talented. For the first time in my life, I allowed my eyes to see lust.
“I find George Michael so sexy”, I said quietly. The owner of the record store, Gene, looked at me for a moment and said, “really?”.
“Yes, he’s a sexy man”, was my simple reply.
“Does that mean…”, Gene started.
I interrupted him quickly and said, “probably. I’ll figure it out someday.”
I went back to enjoying the video, feeling changed in a subtle way.
RIP George Michael. Loved the music but couldn’t understand your image during the “Faith” days, but then a lot of us were still trying to figure out who we were at the time.
Register 16.
I took a part-time job for the holidays of 1990. I had moved back to Jamestown, N.Y., a small city in the extreme southwestern corner of New York State, earlier in the fall. Things were not going to plan. I had abandoned a job reading blueprints of ball bearings and turning them into computer automation. It didn’t pay well and the constant homophobic remarks from a co-worker led to the abandonment. I was single, though living in a mobile home with my ex-boyfriend. I didn’t have the funds to go back to college as I really intended when I moved back to the area. I felt rather down on my luck.
A few weeks prior to Christmas Eve, my mom and dad came down to visit and had stopped at the Hills Department Store I was working at part-time. After working for the second largest computer company in the world at the beginning of the year, I was embarassed when they walked to the back of the store and saw their son working in layaway. That visit included one of the few father-son talks my Dad had ever initiated with me, he told me that the important thing was that I was working and there is no shame in working, ever. A working man is a productive man and you work to make things better. The talk was only a few words because my dad was a man of few words, but those words struck chords with me that have been the bass line of the music of my life ever since.
So as the holidays rolled on I wasn’t feeling as down in the dumps about working at Hills as I had earlier in the season. I worked in the layaway department with three ladies: Nicole, Natalie and Martha. They were all typical gals of the 1990s, Aqua-Net, big hair. I liked working with them. I was holiday help, they worked layaway year ’round. Layaway plays a less important role in the retail world after the mandatory pick-up date of December 21st, so the girls stayed in the back when the manager announced to us that he would start letting the holiday help go. That’s when I was pulled aside by the head cashier and given an opportunity to work through the end of the year. Her name was Trish, and she had noticed that I was a very fast and accurate cashier.
Now remember this was the days before scanning. Every item was manually entered with a department number, an inventory number and a price. Greeting cards had a special button for an automatic 10% discount at Hills. Food items, department 50, had to be entered as department and SKU (inventory number) all as one number so that the tax would calculate properly. My cash drawer was always within ten cents of accuracy, with the majority of my cash-outs balancing to the penny.
It was Christmas Eve morning. I was planning on heading to my folks, about 300 miles away, when I got a call from the manager. He asked if I could come in and work during the day shift. (I usually worked the second shift at the store). Eager for extra money I went in. All but one register was already open and there were lines. After all, the old slogan said, “Hills Is Where The Toys Are!”. The head cashier, who bore a strong resemblance to Penny Marshall, asked if I could work the “old express lane”, which was Register 16 that was never, ever used. They had cleared discarded inventory from the counter. The cash register was a slightly older model than the others, it had green numbers instead of red, and it matched only one or two registers in the back office that were used for inventory processing. It was at the end of “the loop” so it ran slower. I logged in and turned on my “10 items or less” (should be fewer, grrrr) light proclaiming that my lane was open. The first woman through the line remarked, “they never open this express lane. Thank you! I need to get home and wrap presents.” My talent for speed on the old NCR counteracted the slowness of being at the end of the loop. For seven hours, save for a 15 minute and a 30 minute break, I worked the old cash register, making customers smile as they got through the checkout quickly to get their last minute Christmas preparations finished. Looking out the big plate glass windows at the front of the store (I wish we still had those), it was easy to see that it was snowing.
The store closed at 6:00 PM, I printed my cash-out slip for the day and logged off, turning in my cash bag to the office before punching out for the day. I felt good that night, working a minimum wage job but contributing to pleasant Christmases for families in the small southwestern city in a small way. It might not have been the most prestigious job in the world but I was productive and I contributed to the world, and that’s what was important.
Getting home to my folks was slow going due to the snow and it was midnight when I finally pulled into the driveway. My mom was still up, making sure her oldest was safe. I remember her asking about the weather and my drive and me giving her a simple reply.
“It was a good day.”
Support.
Earl and I have decided that we will be relocating in 2017. We are still working on the details, so I won’t comment right now as to where we will be moving to as that part is still up in the air, but we have decided that at ages 48 and 56, it’s time for us to have another big adventure together.
The Mohawk Valley is relatively close to my native land. In the past I’ve always described it as being comfortably far enough away that we wouldn’t have to worry about family dropping in while we were running around the house naked (doing God knows what [insert mischievous laugh here]). Aside from friends met over the years, Earl has no deep roots in the area. I’ve had “, N.Y.” in my address for 45 of my 48 years, so moving elsewhere in the country will definitely be a big adventure for me.
I’ve casually mentioned to a friend or two and to my mom and sister that we are moving next year and have clumsily explained that I’m moving “in support of Earl”. That’s been rather cowardly of me, it’s not his decision to move, it’s our decision to move. I have to admit that I’m going to miss several aspects of living here (mostly a couple of friends that I made at my job a decade ago and the flying community that I am involved with) and that has given me pause, but it’s not fair for me to sound like a follower of this plan because it’s not true. I want to move just as much as he wants to move. I’m just more emotional about it than he is.
As we make plans for Earl’s continued retirement, this move and such, it’s a little odd that we have to make contingency plans for our financial well-being, playing out “what if” scenarios when it comes to our marriage and some of the things that the incoming administration is cooking up for LGBT Americans. What was a guaranteed certainty a year ago (mainly spousal benefits and legal recognition for same-sex couples) could easily change with a few votes from the new Administration. While Earl and I have very supportive friends in the area that we can always count on, I still have a hard time reconciling the knowledge that several of our family members voted for a ticket that is so blatantly untrustworthy. I keep hearing that I should have a positive attitude, but when I already see cheers for a “First Amendment Defense Act” that would basically give folks the legal basis to ignore same-sex marriages (denying benefits, service, the ability to visit in the hospital, etc) based on one’s religious beliefs, I can’t help but not trust people. And when these things come into question, I’d rather live in an area that is solidly “blue” with a more progressive mindset. Folks says “everything will be fine (the worst four-letter word in the English language)” but I want to know things are better than fine.
I have higher standards than that.
2017 is going to be a year of change. That goes without saying. Earl, Jamie and I are going to do everything we can to make sure it’s a change for the better. And that starts with my vocal support of our decisions together.
Encapsulation.
If there was a headline that served as the perfect example of what I feel plagues our society today, it would be this:
I didn’t bother to click through to the article, so I have no idea what the author’s beef is with his Apple Watch, but apparently he wants to destroy the watch because he doesn’t like it. It’s interesting that I assume that author is male. Now mind you, as I said, I didn’t read this article that came up in my Apple News feed, but the headline is telling.
1. The author has written a click-bait headline to grab my attention.
2. The author doesn’t like his piece of technology so he’s going to be very demonstrative in public and do something extreme to get attention on the Internet. God forbid the author give the watch to someone or sell it for charity or something. It’s more fun to destroy things, make a video and get lots of Google Ad revenue. And in my defense, I would feel this way if he was saying the same thing about a Microsoft Zune.
3. The author is contributing to our disposable mindset for our disposable society. His Apple Watch doesn’t make him feel special so he’s going to waste it and move on to something else.
4. Clicking through to the article would probably lead to an article that is poorly written and hastily put together with the sole purpose of generating ad revenue. In my defense, the majority of my blog entries are poorly written and hastily put together but I don’t share them for revenue purposes. Honestly, upon reflection I have no idea why I share stuff online. Maybe they mold an opinion or something.
5. The author is apparently focusing on the negativity instead of any positive aspect of owning an Apple Watch.
Negativity and sensationalist language are the name of the game these days. It’s like the recent fad of “Elf on the Shelf”. Now, we don’t have kids so I have little more than a cursory grasp of how this Elf on the Shelf thing works, but apparently parents put a little elf somewhere different in the house on each day leading up to Christmas to help keep the kid in line. Perhaps Santa needed reinforcements. Whatever the motivation, the exercise is innocent enough and if it keeps said child from pooping on the television or setting the couch on fire, have at it. The thing is, many on the Internet are now perverting the whole thing. Elf on the Shelf is found next to a naked Barbie doll. Elf on the Shelf is holding a meat cleaver next to GI Joe. Elf on the Shelf has a mouse trap next to Mickey Mouse. Why have something lighthearted with great intentions when you can make it dank and dark like the world so apparently, desperately wants to be in the 21st century?
Look, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a critical, judgey bastard that can point out the flaws of anyone at a moment’s notice and share these observations on the Internet. It’s a fault of mine that I am desperately trying to correct. Be the change you want to see in the world and all that. But sometimes it feels like people just want the world to be dank and dark. Destruction. War.
Well war, war is stupid and people are stupid. And love means nothing in some strange quarters.
The thing is, we can make love, or at the very least, a positive outlook, a trend again. Share your smile. Join me in trying to share what we like rather than what we dislike.
Let’s be the change we want to see in the world.
Snow.
About a foot of snow fell yesterday before the overnight temperature dropped to -7°F. The National Weather Service just released another Winter Weather Advisory for tonight, with another six to eight inches of snow expected.
Mother Nature has gone full tilt with the weather and that’s OK by me, though I’m bummed that it keeps me on the ground. It’ll be the perfect weather for picking up our Christmas tree tonight. And I’m really happy that we bought a new snowblower.
But a quick check of the calendar confirmed one thing: it’s still autumn.
White Christmas.
Earl and I just finished our annual viewing of 1954’s “White Christmas”. Winds are whipping outside with gusts up to 35 MPH. We had nearly a foot of snow in the driveway when I ran the snowblower this evening after work.
Watching “White Christmas” puts me in a wonderful mood. It’s such a wonderful classic. Classy. A rosy snapshot of the times.
I can’t help but wonder if there are any classic movies being made today. Are people going to be sitting around 60 years from now watching any of the movies offered to audiences today?
Flat Tire.
On Tuesday I flew with an instructor and friend for my Biannual Flight Review. This flight review is required for private pilots that wish to continue flying. As suggested by the name of the event, it takes place every two years.
I can’t believe it’s been two years since I went on my checkride.
I was a bit apprehensive about flying this BFR because there are a couple of maneuvers that I haven’t practiced in a while, mainly stalls. I’m not a fan of stalling the airplane. My goal as a private pilot is to never stall the airplane. I want to keep the airplane flying. Honestly, stalls make me nervous and it is something that I need to get over. While I got through my BFR just fine, I need to go up with an instructor again and do some stalls. Lots of stalls. I need to stall the airplane until I laugh about it.
After we dropped the instructor off, my friend Ryan and I went flying for a short flight just for fun. There was some weather moving in and the wind was providing plenty of opportunity for a crosswind landing practice, so we headed back to the airport.
I have to say my landing was picture perfect. Ryan remarked on how great it was. I felt good for two seconds. Then the left main tire blew while the airplane was still moving at around 50 MPH. This made for an interesting challenge in keeping the airplane headed in a forward direction. I managed to get the airplane stopped and off the runway so that the airport could remain open.
Ryan took a photo of me being cheesy next to the flattened tire.
The club mechanic verified that my landing technique was not the culprit of the blowout but rather low tire pressure. Visually inspecting the tire pressure during pre-flight is not solid enough for the cold weather at this time of year. From now on we’ll be checking the pressure with a gauge.
This was my first incident during landing and while I didn’t get nervous as the events unfolded I did find it to be a good learning experience as I made my way through the challenge.
Now I just need to get up there and practice those stalls!
Emergency.
Earl and I were driving in a rural part of the county when every iDevice within our reach vibrated, squealed and displayed this.
Notice there is very little information contained in this noisy, urgent alert. There was apparently an emergency in the area we were driving through. I tuned the radio to a local station and they were offering up an ad on mattresses. Since we were headed in the general direction of the local nuclear power plants, I was considered that perhaps something was melting down. Briefly I thought that Russia was hacking into our emergency alert system. For a moment I considered that perhaps PEOTUS was doing something stupid.
With no answers from the radio, I pulled over and searched Twitter, where tweets were starting to appear from our general area asking the same question that I was seeking to answer: what was the emergency and why was there a mobile device blast alerting everyone about this vague crisis?
I found little in the way of answers on Twitter and decided that nothing awful was happening, so we continued on our trip. Earl monitored Twitter and Facebook for a few moments and we deduced that there was a warehouse fire about 45 miles from our location at the time. Later, the local television station updated their Facebook status with a notification that the alert was meant for the small village where the warehouse was located and that it was inadvertently sent to every mobile device in the county.
Mistakes happen, I get that. When an error was discovered, another blast should have been sent indicating that the first was a false alarm. But no such thing happened, we were on our own to discover the source of this very vague alert. Not the best way to notify the populace of an emergency.
Mobile device blasts like this should contain the nature of the alert and the action required. Alerts like this should be reserved for instances where evacuation is necessary: an incoming nuclear warhead, a terrorist attack, an F5 tornado wiping out towns or a potential meteor strike. To the best of my knowledge from all the research I’ve since done since this alert blast, there was no evacuation of the small town where this fire was taking place. No one was asked to move.
Back in the day the Emergency Broadcast System made a wailing noise that got your attention. It made your hair stand on end. The newer Emergency Alert System (the one with the “duck farts” noise) does not grab one’s attention in the same way. The EAS is used for every weather warning, every threat of snow and with the lack of an attention grabbing sound, results in the message being easily ignored. Repeatedly using the EAS once or twice a month results in apathy.
If we are going to have this 21st century way of alerting citizens of a dire emergency, we need to use this new system with caution and reservation. Overuse results in ineffectiveness. And with undoubtedly turbulent times in the coming months (see the Presidential election results), having emergency related technology we can count on for information and urgency is important.
Let’s step away from the Chicken Little mentality.
Time.
Early this morning my phone chimed with an alert usually reserved for “Breaking News”. I set this up a while ago. The chime has sounded for earthquakes, tsunami warnings, mass shootings, things that are happening in the world that can be quite concerning. This morning, the Breaking News was that Time Magazine had announced their Person of the Year for 2016.
Abuse of “Breaking News” notifications results in the deletion of that app (name intentionally withheld) and my ignoring of anything further spewed from that “news organization”. It’s almost as bad as talking about the lives of the Kardashians on Twitter. Instant deletion in my book.
Time Magazine has named President-elect (PEOTUS) Trump as their Person of the Year.
The caption under Mr. Trump’s name is “President of the Divided States of America”.
At first I was angry that Time was pandering to PEOTUS. I felt like they were trying to get in good graces for his upcoming dictatorship Presidency. Mr. Trump has mentioned, in a backhanded way, that he doesn’t like the media and his actions have historically indicated that he enjoys punishing journalists. This Breaking News announcement felt like an olive leaf of sorts.
But then I looked closely at the photo.
First of all, this is not a flattering portrait of the President-elect. He looks menacing. The lighting is dark. The shadows are stark. Mr. Trump’s head is placed squarely under the “M” in TIME. The first thing I saw was a pair of horns. All that was missing was a graffiti quality to the lettering. There’s also the “President of the Divided States of America” byline.
This is not a flattering cover. This is a portrait of a man who sees himself as Big Brother. And I’m not talking about Julie Chen.
Upon further study and reading on the Internet, I began to wonder if the chair featured in this photo was a reproduction of a chair used 78 years for a similar Time magazine cover.
It was then that I remained irked by the abuse of a “Breaking News” alert for this announcement but my displeasure about Mr. Trump being named Person of the Year seemed to be not so bad. Time stroked the PEOTUS’s ego, albeit in a backhanded way, but they deftly conveyed the current mood of the nation. We are a divided nation. Many of us do feel that we have entered dark times. Many feel that Trump has no understanding of the role of President and that he has confuses it with a dictator-like role.
Honestly, if anyone has impacted the United States in this seemingly dismal year of 2016, it would be Trump. So now when I see this cover being, er, trumpeted across the web, newsstands and television, I smirk a little bit. Kind of like when this crazy eyes photo was featured a few years ago.
We are in for some crazy times in these here Divided States of America. We might as well make the best of the situation and smirk while we can.
It’ll keep us from becoming weeping alcoholics.
