Is it possible to fear an entire generation? Yes. Yes it is.

Many generations have titles due to their accomplishments or identifying characteristics; the lost generation, beat generation, baby boomers, tech generation.  But the newest generation we are welcoming now are the ‘thanks for trying, here’s your prize’ generation.  I absolutely detest these people and the parents that raise them.  I am totally against abuse of any kind (mental and physical) let me make that very clear, but this new generation is filled with a bunch of coddled privileged ‘never been yelled at’ kids.

When I was younger, people kept score when I played sports and when we did not win we were upset! My teachers all graded my papers in big red ink, I was not hit but if my parents told me to do something I did it before I could find out what the ‘or else’ was.  The cartoons I watched were the old school Tom & Jerry, Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd, where blood and violence reigned; and Ren & Stimpy or Beavis and Butthead where innuendos, poor jokes and violence were incredibly prevalent.  Like any other generation, my generation has it’s ups and downs, and bad apples, but for the most part we are pretty okay (and I speak for myself and those my age I surround myself with.)  I find kids today are disrespectful, I never caused a scene with a gang of my friends on public transportation before, I have always called my friends parents Mr. and Mrs. So and So unless otherwise instructed, I never disrespected, blatantly disobeyed, and embarrassed my parents.  These are traits I find running rampant in the youth of today’s society.

What has completely corrupted the youth of this new generation is the over-abundance of coddling.  Teachers are no longer allowed to use red pen in fears that it will be ‘emotionally scarring’, even if they get a question wrong they get a sticker and a ‘thanks for trying’. What? NO! You got it wrong, go in the back and study and figure out how to do it correctly.  Now a days kids are all involved in sports when they’re young, but we don’t keep score and everyone gets ice-cream after. NO! Enough!! There are MVPs, and benchwarmers, okay? Let’s act it! There is no need for EVERYONE to get a prize just for trying in sports.  Sports are sports, it’s not ego defeating if you do not win.  I can see that rule applying for child Beauty Pageants, but that’s about it. In life, there are winners and losers and we are robbing our children of this very valuable lesson.  They are being bred into a world where everything is handed to them and no matter how miserably they fail, it’s okay because they tried.  I would be so mad if my parents let me live a lie like that.  In real life you do not get points for trying; when you apply for a job if there is someone better and more equipped, they get it; there is no ‘sub-position thanks for applying’ job lined up for you.  Basically, what we are robbing our kids of is humility. 

Empathy and humility are taught to children at an early age by things like sharing (because you can understand what it’s like to not have a toy someone else has), and when you lose or try your best and still come up short you try harder and you become compassionate towards others when they lose and you don’t.  These kinds of ‘natural’ emotions are lost on kids that are perpetually praised and coddled without doing the work.  The American Dream is to work really really hard, save, and one day hopefully it will be worth it.  That notion has fallen on deaf ears with several generations, but this generation in particular does not understand the importance of things like hard work and determination.

I really pity this new influx of children.  They will never understand all these lessons which I, up until this point, have thought to be ‘common sense’.  Please, parents, I urge you, do not let your kid be that kid.  Teach them some manners [yes, if they come into my house they need to say ‘hello’], set some ground rules, don’t be the ‘pushover parent’, and let them know while failing tasks isn’t ideal, it’s human and it happens! Let’s collectively take a stand and try to salvage this generation from being filled with Hooligans, Rufio[1]s, and ‘lost boys[2]’. 

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[1] Head hooligan in 1991 movie, Hook

[2] I am big on the Peter Pan references today

Ernest Hemingway is pretty Badass

Many moons ago I fell in love….with a writer, Ernest Hemingway.  Ernest is possibly my favorite writer of all time.  Knowing that this is a heavy statement, I will go into depth.

Ernest Hemingway is part of the ‘Lost Generation’; a group of writers, usually expatriate (which, being a huge patriot, I hate) who fled the US during/after WWI and began writing in foreign countries.  Ernest loved to write about Spain, France and other European countries, and wrote abiding by the ‘glacier theory.’  The glacier theory is a style of writing in which the author gives you 10% of the story, and your imagination can fill in the rest.  For example in The Sun Also Rises, the main character, Jake, is injured in the war; Ernest tells the readers this and hints as to the type of injury but never really goes into detail.  This is the kind of writing style I love, it only gives you enough information to get your imagination going.

Although the Lost Generation brought into light many great writers; F. Scott Fitzgerald, T.S. Elliot, Ezra Pound, it is Hemingway that has my heart.

A huge reason why Ernest is my favorite writer has to do with his alcohol addiction and, in spite of the aforementioned addiction, his sheer brilliance.  One of my favorite works of fiction by him is the following short story and the [alleged] story behind its conception.

For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn

Believe it or not, this is a complete story.  It happens to be one that I have remembered years after hearing it, and one that has moved me more than any other 6 words have.  It fits in to his glacier style of writing, because we are never really told why the baby shoes were never worn and we get to draw our own opinions.

However, it is not the fact that this may be the shortest story ever told that makes it so appealing to me, it is how the story was created.  Legend has it that Hemingway was at a bar with a writer friend who bet him a beer that Ernest could not write a story, there in that bar, under 10 words . . . obviously, Mr. Hemingway got himself a beer. 

While I do not condone addictions of any kind, everyone can appreciate that kind of genius writing.  I do not care if he won a beer or 10 dollars; Ernest Heming was one bad ay mamba jamba.  For the reason of liking to bet, and appreciating a great story (both this story and the story of it’s origin), Baby Shoes will always be my favorite ‘flash fiction’ story. 

Once Writing has become your Major vice & Greatest Pleasure, only Death can Stop it. -E.H.

It is said in school if you are good in Math and Science, you are usually weak in Art and Languages and visa versa.  That is because math and science use the critical part of our brain that is logic based while art and languages use the side of our brains that are imaginative and analytical.  Well, as my blogs can attest to, I was never good in math or science.  I can learn a language in my sleep (literally), write a brilliantly coherent 20 page paper in an evening, and analyze even the smallest detail to come up with a beautiful story; I am a lit person.

Now I cannot draw even so much as a doodle to save my life, but I, if I don’t say so myself,  am an amazing writer.  I am also a great reader; it does not matter if its my work, someone else’s, music or a movie; any form of art (yes, music, movies and literature ARE art) I read, see, or hear I like to take in and see how it applies to my life.   I am an analyst.  I feel like most things, things so mundane as a song popping on your Pandora, when listened to closely can have the most profound meanings.  I also believe that sometimes books can have the most effect on you at only the right times you choose to read them.

For example, for Christmas I received a book (which I had asked for), a cult classic, The Perks of Being a Wallflower.  As every 20 something, year old living in the 90s can tell you, this book was almost as big to the world of accepting teenage angst as Catcher in the Rye was.  It was a ‘coming of age’ tale for the more modern society.  When I picked up that book 7 months ago, it took me a while to get going.  I struggled to get to page six before deeming the book ‘boring’ and banishing it back to my bookshelf and reading something else.  One thing about me, as much as I love literature, if something doesn’t captivate me, I do not waste my time; because when a book does captivate me, it is all I think about until I finishing reading it…which usually takes 2 days. 

After I finished reading another book, I was at a different place in life than I was at the beginning of the year, so I decided to give ‘Perks´ a chance.  Revisiting that book was one of the best decisions I have ever made.  I felt that I was meant to read that book at that particular junction in my life; that some Divine power or the Universe was sending me a sign that this book is now more relevant and meaningful to me in this specific moment than it could have ever been in the past. 

Yes, I am aware that it sounds CRAZY to think that I was [dare I say it? Don’t say it. Don’t say it!!! Okay. I’ll say it…] Destined to read any book at any particular moment, but it just felt right.  While there weren’t (m)any similarities between my situation and that of the protagonist, Charlie, it was still nice to know that someone else had fallen down the rabbit hole (and not the cool kind like Alice). 

Perks got a little risqué at moments, but the book, which was told from the perspective of a 15 year old high school student, was so easy to read it was almost difficult to not get encapsulated in the story.  It was like talking to a friend.  There were lines in that book that everyone can relate to, being a ‘wallflower’ at one point or another, even if just in a moment, people can relate.  The feeling of a moment in time being ‘infinite’, everything about it just seemed so real, to everyone.  While reading that book it took me to that town, that high school (even though I hated high school and rather never go through that experience again), but it took me to those moments. 

I believe a good book, regardless of subject matter, should take you to another place, it should have you so intertwined with the story that when you finish the book you are almost sad that you are losing friends.  That is what Perks of Being a Wallflower has given me.

When I found out they were making a movie about the book, I was extremely elated.  When I found out it was filled with mainstream actors and not some cheap indie film I got a little skeptical.  I did not want the purity and innocence of the book to be overshadowed by A-list celebrities and their stigmas (yes I know that makes me sound snobbish. No, I swear I am not a Hipster.) However, after seeing the trailer, I have hope for it.  Even the Harry Potter girl, Emma Watson, seemed to make a believable Sam.  While she would not have been my first choice (I pictured Sam to look a little different), I entrust that she will make the movie proud.  I understand that books and movies are usually very different and the book is almost always better (that means you, Mystic River.)  Getting to use your imagination is what makes books great, seeing movies are just one person’s interpretation of the book and that is how they sometimes fall short of the beauty of the original work of art.  But after both reading and then seeing Water for Elephants, I had hope that movies can have A-list celebrities and still stay true to the art form of the book. 

So, with that, I no longer need the cathartic effect of Perks of Being a Wallflower (although I may re-read Catcher in the Rye), but I am giddily anticipating the release of the Perks movie later this year.

Post Script----

If anyone has some good books to read, I am always open to suggestions!!

Glory Days- The Things I used to do in College. (aka- the Murtaugh List)

            Whenever my life gets a little stagnant, I like to reminisce about my ‘crazy/party days’; those 4 amazing years I spent away living at college.  Like the Boss said, “Glory Days, well they’ll pass you by” and boy am I surprised how fast those 4 years went! I have now been a college graduate for 2 years and I somehow feel like an old lady with all my ‘glory days’ long behind me. 

            In college, I used to be fearless! I would stay out late drinking with the best of them, watching movies til the wee hours of the morning, or just hanging around talking.  I would drink fully caffeinated coffee at 10pm, I would end a full day of classes by taking the train into the city for some karaoke on a weekend even if I had work the next morning in a different borough, I would pull all nighters studying and writing papers;  not a care in the world other than working and having fun.  That was my time when my biggest worry was if I would fall off the bar I was dancing on.

            Life was simpler then, boys didn’t need to have names, my love interest of the minute was constantly changing, my most fancy outfit consisted of flip-flops and an off the shoulder tee-shirt. Meals were always easily accessible, schoolwork always got done and I always managed to go to everything I wanted, have fun and still maintain a 3.5 GPA. 

            However, like everything else, all good things must come to an end.  So in my old age I compiled a list of things I am ‘too old’ to do; things that may have flown in college but are not acceptable now, and just things that I need to let go of. 

1- No jager bombs. No jager of any kind.

2- Lets limit shots to special occasions and 1 a night[1]

3- Stop dancing on bars. It doesn’t look attractive and you might need to invest in some dancing lessons

4- Stop dancing on bars in shoes that can break your ankle

5- Stop giving your brothers number out to people. It’s only funny for so long[2].

6-Stop using Fake Names[3] whilst introducing yourself to bar randos.  Stop meeting bar randos all together.

7-Abreevs are only cool in the 90s and for tweeny boppers.  Don’t be lazy.

8-Stop chewing gum and texting while people are talking.  Rude much?

9-You can have a vice, put down the facebook mobile and keep your cynicism to Blogging..maybe even twitter.

10-Drinking Rum and OJ alone in your room on a Tuesday night is just sad.

11-Don’t ever challenge your dad to a drinking contest. The great Jameson battle of 08 should have taught you your lesson by now.

12-If you have to chase someone for that long, they aren’t worth it.

13-Never stop fighting for what you can’t live without and what you really believe in. 

14-Know the difference between wants and needs

15- This never gets old…"Cheers to those that wish me well and all the rest could go to hell”

16-This is more of a question.  Will you EVER be too old to keep living in quotes and finding inspiration from everything?

And lastly,

17-You are only as old as you feel.  While you probably should stop doing all of these things, [you aren’t in college any more, lady!], there is always an exception to break rules..so. Live it up. Life is too short. 

Maybe we should revisit this list when I turn 25.

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[1] Good luck following that one.  Especially with my friend and local rockstar Eric and his whiskey obsession.

[2] It’s totally still funny. He’s a good sport.

[3] Although the literary references were pretty funny.  And sad not many people got them.  Hello, Nancy

Drew!! Does that SOUND like a real name to you?

Conversation with God.......sort of.

I heard a quote (or was it more of an excerpt?) recently that really got me thinking.  It goes like this: “While talking to God I asked ‘how much time do I have to live?’ and He said ‘Enough to make a difference.’”  

            This to me has more power in a short little passage than anything I have ever read.  It is so true; we never know how much time we have in this world, we all like to think it is a lot, but we are never certain, so why not make the most of every second.  It sounds so cliche, but as we are only put on this earth for an indefinite amount of time, we should use it to be happy and spread happiness. 

            Now, this is not some big religious statement (the quote can be for any god you believe in), nor is it some lecture.  I am one of the biggest ‘plan for later’ ‘work as hard as you can now so you can retire happy’ kind of people, I am constantly planning for the future; but after reading this quote it makes me feel rather selfish.  I shouldn’t be looking at ways to make my life easier in the upcoming years, I should be looking at ways to make an impact on the world.  I have always had a struggle with this.  I want to leave a mark on this world in some way.  Maybe not the whole world, maybe just make a difference in the world of one person, but I need to make a difference nonetheless.  That is my quest in life, and this quote really brought it home. 

            No matter how long we are put on this earth, we are all here with one purpose; to make a difference.  That statement probably seems trivial and you may think it is harder than just that, but it isn’t.  Making a difference can be helping an old lady with her groceries or shopping from a local store and giving back to your community.  There are so many ways we can make a small yet profound impact on the world, if only we try.

            This is my vow to start doing more now; volunteer more, recycle more, help those in need.  I like to think that even my blogging (most of which are just silly little articles of nonsense) has the opportunity to make a difference. So this is my inspirational epiphany for the morning, go out there and make the world better than you found it.

Fairytales are made for storybooks- Confessions of a 21st Century Cynic

Have you ever seen the show Once Upon a Time?  The premise of the show is that our favorite fairytale characters are thrown into a world where they get no happy endings; our world.  They are forced to live out their lives around their princesses and princes yet never know their fairy book romance or get the happy end to their underdog story.

This got me thinking, that theory is a lot what people who believe in ‘true love’ follow.  I mean, I have a snarky cynic shell, but my jury is still out on the idea of soul mates, true love, and having one person be everything…forever.  That thought really brings around more questions and angst than it does a comforting notion that I will have a lifelong love.  For instance, what if you do not find your ‘one person’? What if you find them and then something happens and they die or leave your life, or what if they don’t want you? What if you guys grow a part and in different directions as you get older? Does that mean that they weren’t the right one for you? Also, does ‘the one’ mean that they are the ONLY person for you at any particular moment, or that there is only one person in the whole wide world for you; and if you don’t find them, well then tough noogies buy yourself a bakers dozen of cats and call your lovelife quits.

What about all those people that meet their spouse in High School (yeah, Corey and Topanga[1] I am talking to you!)  Those kinds of people absolutely astonish and amaze me, I feel like they deserve a metal.  How can two people be together for so long and not 1) grow tired of each other or 2) grow apart as they get older.  It seems one in a million chance to have two people that are not related and did not have the same upbringing to grow in the exact same direction for their whole lives. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I would love to have a love like that.  I want to have a once in a life time, fairytale romance; have someone fawn after me and look at me like the first time every day.  I just don’t know how long that novelty lasts; because, in my cynic heart of hearts, it has to be a novelty.  I wish it wasn’t, I wish I could see that kind of love up close, but I never have.  And it leads me to believe that it cannot exist in this kind of day and age where people do not get married until they are well into their 30s and often choose their careers over everything else.  I’ll be the first to admit it, my ‘free time’ consists of my 2 hour daily commute or my weekends when I try to cram 5 days of chores and family obligations into 2.  For the busy bee such as myself, where will you find ‘true love’? No, you do not find true love, you find love based on convenience and whoever will put up with your workaholic tendencies and stress related chronic crankiness.  So does this mean anyone who has the audacity to be career oriented does not deserve a fairy tale romance? Why are all these princesses just hanging around their house until their Prince finds them? I don’t do house chores, don’t need saving, and do NOT have woodland animals creepishly infesting my house.  So does that mean I do not meet the criteria and thus have no hope in finding a once in a life time love?

For that reason I tend to dislike the standard fairy tales.  I like the Brothers Grimm versions of ‘Scary Tales’ but that is neither here nor there on this particular topic.  As far as love stories are concerned, I like to idolize things like The Notebook because it shows the dysfunctional side of true romance.  That’s what I feel like is the modern day capability of love; people fighting, arguing, and wanting to kill each other 90% of the time but that just shows their passionate side for each other.  I like the idea of being so invested and in love with someone that you rather fight with them than be happy with anyone else.  While that may in fact make me a masochist, I think it is a sweet idea.  I would like to find that idea of love.  But again it leaves me at the same point, where do you find these people?  I do not believe in serendipity because I feel way too many people (myself included) spend more time questioning life rather than living it. With that in mind, would anyone recognize and act on a serendipitous moment if it does indeed present itself? The answer is no, probably not.  And you know the chances of a quality love story starting with ‘Tequila Tuesday’ at your local watering hole is not happening.  The next viable option is the internet, but I feel like the thought of internet dating reminds me of two extremes, creepy stalkers, or people too afraid to make a move in real life so they take their endeavors to the virtual world.  Both scenarios do not scream ‘passionate soul mate’ connections.

I wish I could end this blog with a profound line or an epiphany, but this is more just talking aloud wondering if anyone can shine any light on this scenario.  So if anyone knows where True Love is hiding, or possibly has a flashlight for the mystical fog that is my perception of the crock of doody of love, it would all be greatly appreciated.

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[1] Boy Meets World reference, circa the 90s

Flaws. We all have 'em. Some worse than others.

This particular blog article will have to do with issues that came to light in the below article:

 http://www.cnn.com/2012/06/07/health/asselin-walk-philadelphia-boston/index.html?hpt=hp_c2

This article talks about the mental disorder called body dysmorphic disorder.

Everyone knows about OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), at least enough to know what it is and how it makes its victims do tasks a certain number of times or have repetitive ‘ticks’.  What most people do not know about is BDD, which is a form of OCD.  BDD, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, is a disorder in which the inflicted are consumed with the thought of them having a particular flaw in their appearance.  This thought is so all encompassing that it is all they think about, they see a minor flaw (or something non existent at all) and obsess over it so intensely that they become disgusted with themselves and seek out cosmetic procedures to fix their perceived flaws; but it never helps.

This article discusses a 24 year old man who took his own life because he had BDD.  Unfortunately the article never states what flaw he saw in himself, but this really hit home for me.  I had a friend who committed suicide a few years back, RIP Alex, and it is always a sensitive subject for me.  While no matter what it is a horrible experience, it seems to come out of the blue from someone who is seemingly happy.  However, the subject of this article, Nathaniel, was not seemingly happy; he obsessed over an imperfection that was so miniscule to everyone else (if it even existed at all) yet it plagued his entire existence.  

This idea crushes me.  The thought that you hate yourself so much, there is this physical trait that is blemishing your entire life that the only way to eradicate the self-loathing is to end your life entirely.  That thought is horrific.  No one should ever feel that way.  There should always be a hope, there should always be love, and no matter how much we all hate our bodies at times, there should always be a thought that it will get better.  Victims of BDD do not get that grace, to them there is no escape from their flaw,

My point of this blog isn’t to reiterate the article for those that didn’t read it and it is not to have some huge philosophical remark on the matter.  I simply want to spread the word about body dysmorphic disorder, so people can know their struggles and help.

Liam is so better than an 8

http://www.hlntv.com/article/2012/05/24/jon-huntsmans-sexy-and-he-knows-it-according-aarp?hpt=hp_c2

The above is a link to an article that lists 21 of the sexiest men over 50 according to AARP.  The list is filled with A list celebrities such as George Clooney, Antonio Banderas, Samuel L. Jackson, to politicians such as RFK Jr and Jon Huntsman.  If you are too lazy to click the link, you can just see the list provided below.

And now the list you've been dying for...

1. George Clooney
2. Antonio Banderas
3. Denzel Washington
4. Jon Bon Jovi
5. Samuel L. Jackson
6. Yo-Yo Ma
7. Mario Van Peebles
8. Liam Neeson
9. Brian Williams
10. Viggo Mortensen
11. George Strait
12. John Irving
13. James Brolin
14. Andy Mill
15. Paul Sereno
16. Rupert Everett
17. Colin Firth
18. Robert F. Kennedy Jr.
19. Scott Bakula
20. Jon Huntsman
21. Leslie Moonves

While some of these names I did need to google, I have one HUGE issue with this list... Liam Neeson is number 8!!! NUMBER 8?! Seriously? He is by far, the sexiest older man alive. How on earth did he get bumped to number 8? George Clooney and Liam would be tied in my book (really Liam is always numero uno) but for the sake of George being America’s sweetheart, I will say they are tied.  But really, Yo-Yo Ma comes before Liam?! That is just blasphemy.  I demand, anyone with as much free time as I have, to band together and rewrite this list.  It is really impossible that Liam Neeson, with all he does, freeing girls from sex trafficking, telling jokes to Ricky Gervais, teaching young Jedis the way, and kicking butt on the A-Team, to be anything less than pure sex.  I mean how can you say no to this face

B is for BRAvery

I read a story recently that positively changed my life.  It is actually another blog called ‘Avery’s Bucket List’ and can be found here http://averycan.blogspot.com/.  This blog is a bucket list written by a 5 month old’s father, from her perspective.  Unfortunately, as the fates would have it, baby Avery was diagnosed with SMA (Spinal Muscular Atrophy), an incurable genetic disease that affects motor neurons of the spinal cord and brain.  SMA affects muscles in the limbs, as well as muscles that allow for breathing and swallowing.  Between 1 in 40 and 1  in 80 men and women (with no symptoms of the disease) carry the gene for SMA, and if a man and a woman both carry the gene, there is a 25% chance their children will have the disease (not just the disease). 

            This is not one of the more ‘fashionable’ (for lack of a better word) diseases that people know about and thus it is uncommon for people to ask their doctor to be tested.  This is the real epidemic. SMA kills more babies than any other genetic disease.  This is extremely disheartening, when it is so easy to be tested and find out if you are a carrier, just ask your doctor!!  Baby Avery (or BRAvery as her parent’s called her) was so amazingly Blessed to have such loving parent’s who told her story and tried to fill her days up with as much laughter and joy as possible.

            I am not a parent, so I can never even imagine what they could have gone through.  But these people, whom I have never met, have inspired me and impacted my life more than I am sure they thought was humanly possible.  The original intention of the blog was to be a personal memoir for their family, but once it went viral, it was to spread SMA awareness.  Well, congratulations to the Canahuati’s, because we are now aware!  SMA is in the spotlight and it is not going to fade off or hide until people make serious strides and advances into curing the disease. I could never fathom how I would act in a situation like theirs, bringing an amazing little girl in the world only to find out that she will not make it past her 2^nd birthday if even that far.

            Avery’s parents were thrown into action!  They did not want to wait around and mourn their daughter’s short life while she was still alive; they wanted to capitalize on every single second they had with her. Enjoy every minute they had with her rather than mourning the future moments they wont get to have.  One of the quotes that was posted on Avery’s blog that her father would tell her was ‘you can live life dying or you can die living life.’  That is the quote of a fighter, a strong family that wanted to make the most of the short precious moments.  Avery’s parents put together a ‘bucket list’ of things to do before she died (ignoring age as a factor) and they made many of those dreams come true; complete with pictures so her SMAns (SMA + Fans) and fellow bloggers could follow.  I felt that this was extremely uplifting and heart warming.  Avery was surrounded with more pure and genuine love, fun, and had more fight and spunk in her 5 short months than most people see in an entire lifetime.

            I would just like to thank the Canahuatis for opening my eyes to SMA, and for sharing their story.  Their journey has been a difficult one, but I can only hope that whenever faced with a trial or tribulation in life, I can have even a fraction of the strength they had!  God Bless the Canahuatis, and baby Avery who has unfortunately left this world and went on to the next.  Please visit their blog and spread the word about SMA.

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?”

The Lord replied,
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you.”

Park Slope Parents and their war on Terror...err I mean the Icecream Man

The preface of this blog can be found by reading the following articles or having knowledge on the situation.  Park Slope parents are banning ice cream vendors and Mr. Softee from their neighborhood to avoid confrontation and temperamental breakdowns with their children.

http://newyork.cbslocal.com/2012/04/02/park-slope-parents-wants-ice-cream-trucks-banned-to-avoid-testy-tantrums-from-tots/

http://www.nationalreview.com/home-front/295233/brooklyn-parents-want-ban-ice-cream-trucks/greg-pollowitz

Summer is one of the seasons that has the most promise no matter what age you are.  For adults there is the beach, day drinking, tans, long warm days; and for kids there is the no school, the beach, the park, swimming and . . . the ice cream man.  It does not matter where you are, the trancelike music of Mr. Softee can be heard from any room of the house and you immediately find yourself [and millions of kids] running out the door like the rats to the Pied Piper (I am excluded from this being as I am lactose intolerant L).  Kids like ice cream and nothing says summer and youthful bliss than the ice cream truck.

Yet, like everything good in life there is always someone trying to take it away.  Park Slope parents, I am talking to YOU! The parental residents of Park Slope, Brooklyn got so fed up with their temper tantrums from their churns that they decided it is easier to sign a petition banning all ice cream vendors (and joy) from their neighborhood rather than to tell their child ‘no’. 

What is that about? Instead of disciplining your child and instilling some humility and, I don’t know, RULES, it is easier to sign a petition and infringe on someone’s livelihood and constitutional right to make a dolla? (I get so fired up about constitutional infringement that I start to speak in colloquialisms.)  It really is upsetting how people are more comfortable crushing dreams of small business owners rather than teaching their child a valuable lesson that you can’t get everything you want when you want it.  The quam the parent’s have is that they do not want to go to a park to have a nice day with their child (BRAT) and have it be ‘ruined’ by the sight of an ice cream cart that will immediately send their child into tears if they cannot have one.  Now to me, this scenario shows a bigger problem.  Why can your child not be told ‘no’? 

This just goes to show you that anyone can have a child, but not everyone can be a parent! Those two things are not mutually exclusive.  Being a parent means you have to play both good cop and bad cop, you fill your child up with confidence but also humility, morals and lessons.  Anyone who is older than the age of ten can tell you, life is not about always getting what you want.  In reality, you seldom get what you ‘want’ but you realize what you can do without and what you have is sometimes better.  But these little brats aren’t being taught any lesson other than the fact that their parents are certifiable and that it is better to destroy small business and remove a ‘problem’ rather than to solve it. 

If this is how the new generation of parenting is going to be, then I am really fearing for my hypothetical children’s future. What happened to the good old days where people stood up for what they believed in to get more rights and give future generations brighter hope? Is our society so far gone that we replaced social causes (like found in the beat generation and those who fought to end segregation) with just selfishness to make our lives easier because we can’t tell our children ‘no’? 

I had an amazing childhood.  I was given everything I needed, I did chores to get certain toys, I did my homework after school, I received good grades; I was in no way spoiled but I did not go without.  Yet every now and then my parent’s would tell me I could not have something, and sure, I would overreact and put on a show I am sure, because that’s what kids do! But that does not mean you need to run and buy your child every toy or every ice cream cone or burn down the business they come from.  Life and parenting are a balancing act.  You cannot always say yes and you cannot always say no, but you certainly cannot go around banning businesses from areas just because your child is ill tempered.  What will happen when they grow up and go away to college with the social graces of some royal who feels entitled to everything? 

Please, think of the small business and our economy.  It is more than ‘small business Saturday’, lets keep it local, help the little guy, and fight for our freedoms as Americans.  Lets fight for our childhood selves that (even lactose intolerant) would get giddy over the Mister Softee music.

Keeping up with the Tranettes. An ode to my favorite relative.

            I come from a stereotypically large Italian family; my dad is 1 of 6 and almost all of his siblings already have grandchildren.  I have 2 aunts, 3 uncles, and more cousins than I can count.  The thing with having such a big family is that I could pass people on the street, walk right by them and not even know we are related . . .And you know what? That works for me.  I do not really care to be close with people that have a huge generation gap and I have nothing in common with other than a few strands of DNA. 

            On that note, when my personal social networking site started getting friend requests from people whose names I did not recognize, I figured it was time to take a stand.  Extended family is a group you are born into, not necessarily obligated to.  I have friends that I consider family more so than cousins living in other countries I never met before.  Now this is not to offend any of my family, I am just saying, if we haven’t spoken in 20+ years other than the occasional funeral; we don’t really have anything to talk about now, do we?  I am a big supporter of having a few close friends and that is that.  I will talk to anybody, but I will not forge a relationship just out of obligation.  It is okay.  We all lived our lives without keeping in touch for years, we can do it again, little buddy; I won’t be mad. 

            Yet, with this large sea of people I call my family, one-person stands out above the rest; my favorite Aunt, Charlie[*].  Aunt Char, as she is so lovingly referred to in this blog, is the most traditional Italian woman you will ever meet.  Every Sunday she wakes up bright and early, picks fresh basil, parsley and tomatoes from her homegrown garden and starts making a sauce for her Sunday Feast.  She is the kind of woman that still has her shag carpet, boomerang table and giant ceramic leopard from the 70’s because, that stuff never goes out of style!  My Aunt Char will always welcome you into her dark yet humble abode and immediately offer you a seat on her plastic covered furniture.  Which happens to be covered in plastic because God forbid you drop something on her couch--she will never let you forget it! [To my older brother, I am sorry she is STILL yelling at you for scratching her table when you were 2; It doesn’t matter that you are 26 now.] My Aunt Char is a US Citizen, despite being born in Italy, but refuses to ever leave this country because she loves it so much.  She is 5’5, rail thin (and don’t you forget it!) has long black hair, smokes a cigarette a minute (they’re only Capris, how bad can they be?) and has a mustache that can rival that of any motorcycle rider.

            Aunt Charlie also loves a good party; she will travel hours on the LIE just for a  good party with some shrimp cocktail.  But, no matter who’s party it is, family or friend, she will not be drinking any of your beverages.  You see, if my aunt Char were a Barbie, her accessory pack would come with some Capri cigarettes, a fanny pack, her homegrown tomatoes, and a bottle of water she brought from home.  You see, it’s not that my aunt is a conspiracy theorist per se; it’s just that she does not want to drink any of your poison water or eat the tomatoes that came in the salad you made.  She will drink her own tap water and eat the tomatoes she brought with her because she knows their lineage. My aunt is extremely loving and has two children whom are, in every sense of the word, the fruit of her loins.  Her two children, Lorena and Ralph, are the spitting image of my Aunt Char and Uncle Fred.  Ralph is like his father, indifferent to family feuds and passive; while Lorena is all her mother, filled with contempt and fueled by conspiracies.  They are the spitting image of every 1950’s household; happy, serene, Long Island-- you get a very ‘Stepford’ vibe from their presence. 

            Holidays at their house leaves nothing to be desired; there are decorations (that you cannot touch unless you want a 40 minute speech screamed in your face about how when you were 4 you touched a 99cent glass ornament and it broke), movies (my cousin Lorena can name every anti-anxiety medication Donnie Darko should have been prescribed) and of course, what Italian holiday dinner would be complete without a feast? But if you are going to show up for the holidays, please be prompt (she has been slaving away all day over this meal), come hungry (but not too hungry, you only get half a manicotti per person), and do not comment on the rationing of the food (ungrateful gavone.) 

            If you asked me why my Char is my favorite, as if it is unclear from this blog--a testament to her life, I would tell you it is because there is just no one quite like her.  She is punchy, has spunk, full of life, and whenever I see her, I always have a good story to tell.  She does not bend for anyone and she most certainly does not hold back (she once kicked my little brother out of a party because she didn’t know who he was.)  In short words, she is the kind of woman everyone can aspire to be; full of life, charisma, self sufficient (hello garden vegetables) and ready to cut faces if the opportunity presents itself.

---

[*] Pseudonym.  She would beat me with a wooden spoon if she found out she is on the internet.

Big Boys Don't Cry

When children are growing up, it is perfectly acceptable for little girls to wear dresses, pink, play with Barbies and cry.  But a boy, no.  A boy is supposed to make the girl cry, play with G.I. Joes, leggos, break things, and play sports.  This is our culture; this is a social stereotype, and this is what is generally ‘socially acceptable.’  Now I am not saying that these are my views, I am just saying they are observations in life. 

In the adolescent years, girls join dance class and boys join sports.  Throwing all their newfound testosterone and teenage angst into their love for sports, boys get really passionate and competitive about it.  They will do anything to win and their coaches remind them of that with praise, punishment, long drawn out speeches and rallies.  Again, this is our culture.  The culture of sports as a whole, professional or not, is to win.  You cannot be the best if you do not win; giving it your all isn’t going to cut it, you have to win.

It is with this mentality that I am not in the least bit shocked that teams in the NFL have ‘bounty incentive programs.’  Why is everyone so surprised?  The sport of football is all about pummeling your opponent, yet being in complete control over your body.  If you hit the quarterback after the ball has been thrown, penalty. If you hit a player helmet-to-helmet, penalty.  So why would anyone think that any time a player is hit and needs to be carried off the field that it was an ‘accident’ and it was not meticulously calculated before hand.  Football is all about control and results.  There would not be so many injuries if they were all ‘accidents.’  Let’s be honest with ourselves for a minute.  We, as viewers, turned a blind eye to the bounty program, because it was a whisper and we did not want to believe that our heroes could be so ‘evil’, but let us not mistake ignorance for genuine shock.  It is more shocking that no one cared about the issue until it was blatantly brought to the foreground.  Furthermore, athletes make a lot of money.  I do not ever want to see anyone get hurt, especially not anyone on my fantasy team, but the sport is violent and they knew the risks coming into this profession.  That is why they get paid a lot.  Every job has their risks and rewards, and unfortunately for athletes, the NFL has the highest of each.

I am sorry to all ‘true fans’ who [ignorantly] are genuinely surprised by this news.  It does not change the sport or your heroes; it just shows what an aggressive sport and culture it is we live in.  I am sure one coach just wanted his team to play harder so he enticed them with money and before you knew it, it spun out of control.  But please don’t all act genuinely shocked.  It happened, it sucks, but it was always a probability that this was going on.  We are a culture of violence.  Just look, for example, how traditional boxing has been replaced and overshadowed with the much more violent sport of UFC and MMA.  It is with all these popularly violent sports that we should be embarrassed at ourselves for idolizing and encouraging this kind of behavior.  Not turn a blind eye and then once the story comes out condemn all parties involved.  But alas, ignorance is always bliss, isn’t it? And once something comes to the forefront it is hard to stuff it back in Pandora’s box and ignore it all over again.

Social Scientist- Still Fishing

Hello Lovers! 

I decided to create this post to list my findings as I go along and find them.  Not that I like to post two posts in one day on the same subject, but in light of new [and hilarious] events (stories) I feel it is necessary.  I am going to post all new findings in a list format so it will be easily recognizable when something is new.  These aren't necessarily in a number of importance or relevance, just issues that arose at the very moment.


One- DO NOT BE CREEPY.  You want to be cute or playful, FINE, but by all means PLEASE for the love of God, PLEASE know when enough is enough.  I just got the following message 'you look delicious and I would like to taste you :)'  Now, that is freakin' WEIRD.  First off, you can take it as the kinky way (vomit) but the smiley face makes it more friendly not sexual; so that leaves us with the second option CANNIBALISM.  You just sound like a crazy psycho who I would never want to meet alone in fear that you will kill me, eat my muscles and wear my skin around as a house coat.  Thank you, Buffalo Bill, but your message immediately goes into the 'delete. get the fuck away from me' pile on accounts of SERIOUS creepyness.  We all learned at a young age, thanks to little red riding hood, not to trust strangers especially when they BLATANTLY tell you they want to eat you.  I need to take a shower; my skin is crawling with 'irk'yness.

Two- Lets all take the highroad here.  Rejection sucks. Always.  There is no way around it.  So if you need to reject someone, who is seemingly nice just not your type, then do it nicely.  You wouldn't want to be demeaned and hurt, so keep that in mind when you are trying to let someone down.  Easy is the way to go.  Because, lets face it, you probably put enough information on your profile for them to find you and take out their disgruntled frustration on you (see above post).  On the other hand, if you are rejected, again take the highroad.  There is no reason to berate someone with insults and say that they're ugly or name calling or whatever.  Because we all know that isn't true.  You were just interested in getting in their pants and the first sign of trouble you're vicious? Lets all calm down here.  It's not that serious, they're probably just a fat sad sack sitting on their couch waiting for someone to like their photoshopped photo.  Or at least that's what I like to tell myself if I ever get rejected.  And if someone starts telling you that you're ugly once you reject them, they're probably crying into a pint of ice-cream so don't take them seriously at all.  Our egos can all make it past the internet.  They probably aren't as good-looking as their 10 year old photo looks anyway.

Three- Do not write a novel.  Make sure your initial email is concise, intriguing, specific enough so the person will want to speak to you again but not so specific that they will know your whole life story.  If it is longer than 4 or 5 lines, it’s too much.  No one wants to feel like they are reading a homework assignment when you are trying to woo them.  Also, generic emails makes people feel unwanted, a notch in a belt, like they aren’t worth the 5 minutes it takes you to read their profile and come up with something clever.  So, just get out there. Strike up a conversation about whatever minimal fact they have on their profile that relates to you and go with it.  ‘You have red hair? I’m a ginger too! Slainte’  Just get out there and act normal.  The more you try the more you will be your own repellant. 

Just Fishin'

I have been in a serious and long-term relationship for a couple of years now, so I have been out of the ‘dating scene’ for quite some time. My brother, however, the eternal player that he is, has taken his dating plight to the internet to maximize his dating potential [in true Barney Stinson fashion].  After making a very blunt ‘I’m just looking to hookup’ profile, he decided to change his approach and make it a little more ‘crowd friendly’.  In the meantime, we wanted to see how other men approached women on a generic (FREE) dating site, so we decided that I would make a profile and see how people responded.

Now, this is funny for a few reasons. 

1-I tried to be as honest as possible, but I am ridiculous so I made sure my crazy was ALL over my profile

 2-I am in a relationship so nothing is ever going to happen other than research, this awesome blog, and a good laugh

3-the responses that followed were some of THE MOST amazing things I have ever come across.

I really think if any of the people messaging me met me in a bar, they would never say half the stuff they said let alone actually approach me.  I am a force to be reckoned with in person, and I tried to have that displayed on my page from the very beginning. Ie- my username expresses my detest for Hipsters.

So.  I make my ridiculous profile, don’t add a picture and wait.  I can tell from my ‘view who’s looking at you’ bar that I’ve gotten a few eyes.  I received a few generic messages ‘you sound intriguing. Lets chat’…. ‘Where are your pictures? You sound like you can be cute.’ And a few other generic templates  Then of course I got the WAY too inappropriately forward ‘I’ll give you da best d*k you eva had gurl.’  Or the ‘Hey lets makeout.’  Now I am no casanova, I usually like to say things just to make myself laugh and if it DOESN’T creep people out, then we’re good.  But honestly, who are they trying to pick up with these lines? If you’re just trying to be a creep or ‘get it in’ or if you’re 19-21 . . . go to a bar.  There is no need to be creeping on the internet if you’re young, you can go to a bar for that shtuff.  And if you’re just trying to hook up [be it making out or ‘getting it in’] then GO TO A BAR! I am not going to give up my safety (I’m speaking for women in general here) and meet you in person JUST to make out or roll around in your [probably bed bug riddled] bed with God knows who else’s excrement’s. 

Day two.  I upload my picture..just 2 and see what happens.  I feel like a little scientist, lurking behind my computer safe and sound giggling waiting to see what hilarity will ensue next.  I get A LOT more bites than I did without the picture (obviously. Hahaha).  Now I’m getting people who are impatient and feel the need to message me TWICE,  Now the problem with doing that is you seem desperate and VERY needy.  If I were looking for anything, it wouldn’t be found in some average looking guy continuously telling me where he’s from and offering to hang out or sending that and then ‘let me know when you’re ready’.  Obviously. I know I’ll let you know IF I want to hang out, the thing is, TAKE THE HINT. . . I DON’T want to hang out! 

The trick with internet dating is that you need to REALLY be critical in your self-evaluation.  Yes, there’s no harm in trying, but if you’re a 5, don’t go for a 10.  It’s just uncomfortable for all parties involved.  I am in no position to knock anyone for their looks and I am not the kind of person to be openly rude to someone just for being ugly-- but if you’re going to be rudely persistent, creepy or straight up dirty . . . kiddo I am going to call you on it.  It is a known fact that in every relationship there is a reacher and a settler , but sometimes you have to know what’s reaching within your reach and what is REALLY reaching.  If you’re a ‘4’, you can probably reach up to a ‘6’, and that is if your personality is dazzeling and whatnot.  But if you’re a ‘4’ to reach to a ‘10’? That is just blasphemy.  Even if you’re a 7 sometimes reaching for a 10 is iffy.  And me, I’m more about personality than looks, so my number scale can go for either personality or looks [depending on how superficial I feel in the moment. . . .JOKE]. 

Everyone tells you when you internet date you need to know what you want, who you are looking for, be yourself, be honest, yadda yadda yadda.  What they don’t tell you is ‘hey. You have a very short window to convey yourself to someone else.’  I’m not talking about the bio, I’m talking about writing a message!  Writing a message is hard, you never know what to say or how to say it.  The written word is hard; Will my joke come across as a joke or make me sound arrogant? They haven’t responded in 30 minutes, do they not like me?   Everybody just needs to relax.  It is just as hard to come up with a response as it is to initiate.  But if you have the wrong opening email, chances are you are not going to get the opportunity to redeem yourself in a follow-up without pummeling your interest’s inbox. 

So before you take your love search to the risky road of the internet, THINK.  Think of all the cheesy pickup lines you’ve heard/seen/used in the past and think of how they will be perceived how much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice! I’m so and so.  If you’re cute, you can use things like that.  If you’re not, it doesn’t come off as ‘cute funny cheesy’ it comes off as ‘what a creep he thinks he has a chance.’  So, like any other life endeavor, know your station in the hierarchy.  Do not reach too high unless you want to be stunted into embarrassment by someone who thinks they are hotshit and probably aren’t. 

As this blog is being written in Real Time I will keep this as a re-occuring segment in my posts.  Every so often I will create a new blog on the same subject matter with my new findings.  The ocean is very large, my dear readers, and thus there are plenty of fish.  I will let you know the do's and don'ts of getting around the web 'watering hole', because clearly the usual 'in person bar moves' are no longer as adequate.  Tune in next time, love lust readers. Keep up the optimism! xoxo