Give it back.
Okay. So I know some people really believe the bailouts were/are necessary. I know that lots of folks are all gung-ho for it because this politician or that politician said it needs to happen.
I, on the other hand, do not hold politicians above the citizen–and I definitely do not automatically acquiesce to their proclaimed intelligence. It is, after all, a vary rare PUBLIC SERVANT that takes a political office to serve. This, then, means the vast majority of PUBLIC SERVANTS seek only to serve themselves and their personal agendas.
But then, I’m not telling anyone anything they don’t already know.
I digress. This post was supposed to be straight and to the point.
Give it back. None of my stuff was invested or handled by these guys, but they have my tax dollars. I want it back.
I don’t care if they get sued for not paying out bonuses. Seems to me it’s our money, and as such they should be asking our permission. I don’t give it. I want it back.
Give it back.
Global Food Crisis
11:43 AM
Working from home has many drawbacks. It also has some surprising, if painful, benefits: like coming to terms with oneself, identifying shortcomings, and exposing areas of one’s life that need work both big and small.
This morning I’ve been struggling with such issues.
I’m on break right now–eating lunch. My food is bland, and utterly dissatisfying. My mind is still stuck on my drive this morning, when I took my two oldest boys to school. On the radio they discussed the Global Food Crisis.
The what? What Global Food Crisis? I mean, I know people are hungry. My family is already supporting two great kids in Sierra Leone. We are doing our part. What is this, then, about a Global Food Crisis?
With skyrocketing global gas prices, and a worsening economy, and a myriad of other issues affecting countries and families across the globe, food has become twice as expensive as what it was–or more. That means, as reported on the radio this morning:
When families all over the world have historically spent 80% of their income on food, and then food prices double–there is not enough food to go around.
I put myself in that situation. Clearly, I instantly think: I would go without food myself to feed my kids. But then, that can’t go on very long, either–without me, it becomes even worse for my family. So then what? Can anyone ‘choose’ which family member eats, and which one(s) don’t?
Unfathomable.
So what do you do? Do you do what mother’s are doing in Haiti? Do you make dirt cookies for the kids? Literally–to put ’something’ in the kid’s belly so they don’t ‘feel’ hungry, families are being forced to make cookies from a bit of shortening, some salt, and dirt. Curbs the hunger, but offers little to no nutrition.
The weight of it is nearly unbearable.
I put my food down. I’ve been terrified for months. No work. Spiraling economy. Will I make my mortgage? Can I cover my credit card bill? Can I put food on the table? And here I stand, looking at my pantry. I have plenty of food. I study my kitchen, my house, my car. Seriously.
I am ashamed. In spite of how bad things are, and how bad they might get–I have no clue what suffering is.
How do you choose between your family members? Who will you feed?
The numbers are staggering. Not ‘numbers’ mind you–people.
Every 7 seconds, a mother or a father collapses to their knees. Some will shout with anger. Some will lash out in hate. Most will simply fold in on themselves and shudder to their core in pain and sadness. Trembling hands will reach out to take up a child–their child–and pull them to their breast. They will sob. They will sob at their loss. They will weep with a sense of failure. They will weep, and nothing will change.
Their child will still be dead.
Every 7 seconds.
Whether through faith based groups or not–I implore you to find a way to give. It doesn’t take much, truly, to make a difference–as little as $13 through some organizations, like Compassion International, will literally feed a child for a month.
Thirteen dollars. I don’t care how tight things are, and how bad our economy is–you can afford $13.
It is now 12:13.
Since starting this post 257 children world-wide have died from hunger.
What’s in your wallet?
Like so many others this weekend, I received my notification from Capital One about the rate increases on my Credit Card. For 8 years: 6.9%. With a credit score like mine, I believe I could have (should have) had an evenbetter rate than that, but hey, it had some useful perks, so I lived with it.
As of April 17th, however, my rate increases to something utterly absurd like 29.6%! Sweet. I wonder if anyone else can jump on the ‘Let’s all punish the good guys’ bandwagon. After all, if a good guy finished first, what the heck kind of precedent would that set?
Clearly, the card will be cancelled. I assume this is some desperate act by Capital One to purge itself of it’s responsible clients in order to more efficiently fleece their irresponsible ones. Good luck with that.
If you, too, are a Capital One credit card holder, you should know that ‘what’s in your wallet’ is a big steaming pile of stink.
Say what?
I believe that after 2009, the definition and grammatical uses of ’stimulus’ will be forever changed. I know this, because I have seen the drafts of the 2010 Premier Edition of Webster’s Dictionary. I’ll give you a sneak peak.
Previous year’s definition of ‘STIMULUS’:
Main Entry: stim·u·lus Pronunciation: \ˈstim-yə-ləs\ Function: noun Inflected Form(s): plural stim·u·li \-ˌlī, -ˌlē\ Etymology: Latin Date: 1684 : something that rouses or incites to activity: as a: incentive b: stimulant c: an agent (as an environmental change) that directly influences the activity of a living organism
Main Entry: stim·u·lusPronunciation: \ˈstim-yə-ləs\ Function: noun Inflected Form(s): plural stim·u·li \-ˌlī, -ˌlē\ Etymology: Latin Date: 2009 : something that rouses willing bondage: as a: a thrall b: an indentured servant to the state or c: an insidiuous blueprint to fund bigger government and bring a disenfranchised middle class in line with decades of high taxes and a permanently eroded manner of living.Example: “I offered him a stimulus and he fell to his knees in worship.”Function: verb Etymology: Latin Date: 2009 : the manner or action used to bring about servitude: as in: a: giving an organizim the proverbial shaft b: squeezing the middle class to the detriment of the middle class.Example: “If you continue to be responsible, you fool, I will be forced to stimulus you.”
Long Time No Update
Being unemployed is for the birds. It’s a full time job trying to find a job. And as such, my writing has come to a cold, bone-breaking halt. My time on the blog has suffered the same fate.
But I’m course correcting. Writing is beginning again. That damn novel is not going to finish itself, especially if it finishes me.
I’m on it.
I’m making it happen.
I’m giving myself a pep-talk, in cyber-ether, to nameless people across the country, enjoying a respite of voyeurism.
Man. I’m pathetic.
Christmas Letters from Karim and Josephine
We’ve long wanted to sponsor kids abroad, and this year our family finally did it. We sponsored two kids in Sierra Leone — Karim, and Josephine.
Both are without parents, the remnants of civil unrest a number of years ago.
Their letters stuck me. If anyone has a right to be bitter, or unhappy, or faithless–it is these children. Yet, you can feel their hearts through their words, and despite all of the tragedies and tribulations that have befallen them in their young lives, they are genuinely happy, and are with hope.
I juxtapose their attitude and outlook with my own, their personal trials with my own, and I am ashamed.
Thankfully, their attitude and hope are infectious, too.
If you really desire hope amid personal despair, and comfort amid personal uncertainty. . . may I humbly suggest you go out and help somebody. It will change your perspective, and will feed your soul. Though the ‘helped’ do recieve, the ‘helper’ is the true beneficiary.
Collaborative Photo Experiment
I was driving to work the other day, saw the sunrise and pulled over. On the side of the road I admired it for a couple minutes. Gorgeous. There it was, just cresting the horizon, setting the sky on fire. And it donned on me–in New York, if somebody else had pulled over to look at the sun the same moment as I, this same ball of fire would be full in the sky.
I seemed so small, and it so big. If it had eyes, that same sun, just getting a glimpse of me, would have been admiring how many others for how long.
This got me to thinking: how cool would it be to have a picture diary–if you will–of the same sun, taken from the same direction, preferably at as close to the same lateral, at the same moment in time, from locations across the country? It would effectively allow the viewer of the diary to see what the sun sees in a given moment.
I wonder how hard it would be to gather 20, 30, 50, or more people to make something like this happen? All photographers, I think, should be asked to include some diary entry–something going on in their life, their town, their family.
It would be a project that tells many micro-stories that, tied to the over-arching theme of big and small, would have an opportunity to convey a macro-story. Besides, if the pictures were good enough, and the diary entries interesting, and quirky, and heartfelt, and humorous . . . could be a good coffee-table book maybe worthy of publishing.
What would be the best way to put a grass-roots ameteur collaboration like this together?
If we could gather enough interested parties, we could then map out picture locations, set a date and time, and put something together. We’d need to establish some ground rules, as to really make something out of this the we’d need to collect good, quality photos–preferably time stamped for proof that it was the same moment in time.
If we did this, we could make a double feature out of it and do the same thing for sunsets as well.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m a dork, but I think it would be kind of a cool collaboration, accomplished with a bunch of strangers from all over the country that would otherwise have no opportunity to meet, or to know/acknowledge ever existed.
How would we go about organizing something like this?
Literary Agents
Folks. I would love some leads on Literary Agents who handle Fantasy/SF.
I’m 450 manuscript pages into my novel, and frankly, I’m frustrated beyond belief . . .
On the one hand, I could submit unsolicited . . . 3 chapters (been there, done that) and an outline. But it seems chances of setting the hook are low.
On the other hand, I can submit to literary agent . . . complete manuscript. Holy cow, I just want to get things moving. I’m continuing to write. And write. And write.
I desire some direction. What is the best way to go? What nets the greatest chances of success?
I have a story. I’m telling it in secret, but I think there are many folks out there that would also like to become part of it.
Anyone with any leads, contacts, friends, family members related to, possessing acquaintances to, Literary Agents dealing with Fantasy/SF, I’d love to connect.
Joe
Post Thankfulness
Thank goodness.
I promise, I was not a morose, contemplative, lay-about this past 4-day weekend. Nevertheless, I did spend time pondering things of Thanksgiving and Thankfulness. It struck me that it seems too easy–flippant, even–to jump on the ‘Thankful Bandwagon.’
Thank you for taking care of me. Thanks to everyone who makes me happy. Thank you for giving me this or that. Thank you for sacrificing for me.
I, too, fall into this rote, robotic process of generic ’Thanksgiving’ as well. I think a better way to approach this–to really convey the genuine heart of our appreciation–requires specifics.
I say that I am:
Thankful for my wife. For my kids. For my family. For my friends. For all of these things and more.
But why? Specifically?
Were it not for my wife, I wouldn’t have my children. Were it not for my wife, there would be no home worth going to. Were it not for my wife, I might not know happiness in this life. When I am a grouch, she puts me in my place. When I am a dreamer, she feeds the fire and encourages me. When I fail, she puts it into perspective. When I succeed, she celebrates. As well, she allows me to be part of her world, of her dreams, of her failures and successes–she allows me an opportunity to return to her, what she gives to me.
My kids. I am thankful that they are far more patient with me than I probably am with them. They teach me grace. They teach me the simple love that is far more pure, far more unrefined and so very genuine and overpowering. Where my wife encourages me to dream, my kids teach me how. They teach me that there are no rules to dreams, no boundaries. They are kind enough to lend me their eyes every now and again, to see the world, to see our family, from a completely different–and better–perspective.
I am very fortunate to come from a family that knows it’s place in the world. Aliens, every one of us, in a land not our own. Just here visiting. I was fortunate to grow up with a family that knows better than to take itself, or any individual member, too seriously. My family makes fun of itself and each other, and we laugh. We laugh until we cry. Over silly things that have no right being so darn funny. And better, my family is probably like yours–where secretly, in the dark closet where we hide the real family–all humor, despite attempts at the high-brow and academic, eventually give way to flatulence jokes and bathroom humor. My family is wonderfully, adorably, unapologetic for being unpretentious and blue-collar.
And my friends. There are a few of them, thankfully. Closer in the past then we are now, I suppose, but understandably so given we are all now mid-journey in our own stories. Wives. Kids. Careers. Travel. War. I am thankful, though, that as we come closer to the later chapters, the same friends will be there, to come together and join stories again. It’s not common for elementary school friends to still hang-out–but we do. We will.
Pondering all of this, I discovered I’m far more thankful, to far more people, then I let on. I need to change that. It is interesting to me to see how people change, how their demeanor changes, how their prespectives change–how their lives change–when they know, really know, that what they do is making a difference, that by just being here, alive, with you and I, they are making a difference for somebody.
It is affirming, emboldening, and necessary.
I know it’s post-holiday, and we are all officially off the hook for pouring out any further Thanksgiving–but take a moment and buck the system. Break the rules. Take a moment and tell somebody specifically why you appreciate them.
You’ll be glad you did.
Good People in Need All Over . . .
I’ve got some really good people I know that are looking for employment. They are former colleagues, business partners, customers . . . and they are as good as they come in this world.
Furthermore, they have helped me along the way. I would very much like to return the favor.
I’m thinking of high-caliber folks in places like Eugene, Oregon; Santa Clara, California; Los Angeles, California, etc . . .
If you have a lead on high-tech employment in those areas, please reach out to me on LinkedIn and I’ll put you in touch.
