Egos

I don't know how many people I know actually read this thing, so I'll try to be vague.

I'm int he middle of a battle of egos - two people who are too big for themselves and hurting the common good. And I want to write generally about that, just to get it off my chest and hopefully get some sleep tonight.

A while ago, I decided to put together a career path. That is, I saw many of my friends having a "point B" in their careers, as it were and decided I wanted to shoot for the executive directorship of a nonprofit sometime in the next few years. Nonprofits have boards, require fundraising and often, but not always, involve dealing with people whose egos make working with them difficult. It's something that up until a few days ago, I put under the "challenging but interesting" category. Now I'm putting it in the "dreading it but necessary category."

What I'm dealing with is a disagreement on a base level, two people who simply don't agree with each other and are at an impasse. This impasse is preventing progress, and I'm the only one that has direct contact with each party. It's not even necessarily my responsibility to deal with this issue directly, but I see it as a roadblock and next week it is going to HAVE to be resolved or all forward momentum will cease in a hurry.

The challenge becomes how to deal with two immovable objects. You can't move them closer toward each other, and you can't move them out of the way. The only option, as I see it, then becomes to chart progress around them, which will mean hurt feelings and probably backlash in the name of trying to act like an adult.

My severe distaste of confrontation (and the massive amount of shit I've taken in the past because of that distaste), didn't lead us here, thank God. These folks got to their starting and ending points on their own. The strange thing is, if this goes well I'm going to gain confidence in dealing with this sort of crap and I'll be one step closer to where I want to be. If I totally botch it and the worst happens, I will have made a fatal error, will move on and be closer to where I want to be. It's a good thing except for the massive pit in the bottom of my stomach and the resolve I find myself summoning in vain when I think about the looming confrontation with both parties.

Maybe if I think positively...ah screw that.

If anyone has any advice given this exteremely vague post, I'd love to hear it.

Break on Through

If you subscribe to new age philosophy, there's a popular theory floating around right now that thought significantly influences behavior. If you sit in front of a random number generator and think real hard about 1s instead of 0s, more 1s will show up, the theory goes. Oprah commercialized the idea with "The Secret" which basically states, in its simplest form, that if you really want something (say, a bike), you keep a positive attitude and act as though you have that something (don't ride something that isn't there, but walk with a swagger that says "I have a bike") and the "universe" or whatever will send that request through central processing, and before you know it you're on the banana seat of a Huffy.

I don't buy that for a second, but I do believe positive thinking can do you good. I'm not saying your brain magically unlocks synapses that allow for something to happen that wouldn't happen before, but maybe the combo of motivation, good thinking and, hence, a willingness to put up with set back after set back adds up to a better situation than the one you had before.

Which brings us to today, and my completely inconsequential little victory. In my job, I do a fair amount of design work and use Quark quite a bit. It's easier that Photoshop, for me, but the big P is better for about every application, or so I've read. I don't know why, but the program is counter intuitive to me, so instead of reading up on tips or fiddling around, I decided to stick with Quark unless I absolutely had to go Photoshop. Today, I had to go Photoshop.

But I was feeling good, so I cleared a block of time, sat down and figured it out. It wasn't a difficult application, it wasn't a big deal, but something clicked that hadn't clicked before and voiala. The victory came not in doing a simple application that smarter folks could do fairly easily, but with the trial and error that helped me figure it out. It felt good.

I have a few friends and relatives who are big believers in positive thinking equals change, and I'm not sure I entirely disagree when it comes to your attitude and the change being in your situation. That, however, brings us to the central problem with this philosophy that I subscribe to in a very opaque type of way - I hate thinking positive. There's drugs in the water, poison in the sky, we elect people who try to forcibly destroy our government, people aren't smart enough to change a damn thing, people in general are lousy given the right set of circumstances and about one day out of 20 I wake up feeling like we're nothing more than hairless monkeys collectively drowning in a sea of filth, pushing each other's head under the grey water to gasp a few more breaths before someone pushes us down, never to return. You know, basic mood ebb and flow.

My point is, positive thinking cannot be a constant, and anyone who is constantly thinking positive likely has serious mental issues or is a complete idiot, whether the waves emitted from your brain can somehow shift reality or not. I don't think Photoshop magically opened it's secrets to me because I felt good today, but I don't think I would have made the progress I did if I didn't feel good today.

How's the quote go - I'm a complex person. I am full of contradictions.

Likes on Wednesday: John Stewart

Tina Fey is, by and large, an extremely likable person. Let's run the list:

-She turned the cultural touchstone that is Saturday Night Alive from the land of "God This Sucks," and exalted the beloved Lorne Michaels brainchild to the paradise of "Eh...What Else Is On" as head writer.

-Her brand of comedy is very clever. No denying it, she's funny and she's bright.

-Fey equals loyalty. How else do you describe putting the black hole of talent that is Tracy Morgan on your highly rated NBC show "30 Rock."

-Finally, she's got the strong, hot woman thing going. She's adorable and extremely competent.

To clarify, I'm not a fan. I don't watch "30 Rock" though everyone whose opinion I respect tells me I should, and never caught "Mean Girls" nor do I plan to catch "Baby Mama" this summer. But, I hold no ill will toward the lady and respect her talent.

So imagine my surprise when she decided to rip on John Stewart, in Readers Digest of all places.

Make no mistake, Fey is hot right now, but Stewart is a god damn institution. The man has been legitimately funny for 20 years, though not respected for most of them, and it's only over the past 8 to 10 years that he's moved from very funny to mildly (though distinctly) important. Tina Fey can be cute and funny and clever and make as many American Express ads that she wants (a sin I even rip on Bob DeNiro for), she has yet to come close to what John Stewart is to this country as a comedian and social commentator.

To back up, here's what Fey, who oversaw SNL during the time when "Deephouse Dish" ran for 8 consecutive weeks on basically the same one joke, had to say about the host of The Daily Show and forebear to Stephen Colbert and Steve Carrell, among others: "You can prompt applause with a sign. My friend, SNL writer Seth Meyers, coined the term clapter, which is when you do a political joke and people go, "Woo-hoo." It means they sort of approve but didn't really like it that much. You hear a lot of that on [whispers] The Daily Show."

OK, not a high cross body, but definitely a whip to the turn buckle. I take umbrage with two portions of her argument.

1) The reason people clap at John Stewart's show isn't because he's employing some sort of cheep applause line. He's making decent observations that people agree with. Take, for example, a couple weeks ago when Fey hosted SNL and threw out a line about "bitch being the new black." People clapped more than they laughed because....they agreed. They thought it was astute and funny and showed their appreciation with more than a chuckle. So not only is Fey guilty of the same thing, more or less, but the "sin" she's manufactured doesn't mean what's being said isn't funny. It means it's relevant and funny and elicits a different reaction than Justin Timberlake singing about his dick in a box.

2) Maybe, just maybe, John Stewart has already proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's funnier than hell, and is now shooting a bit higher than gut laughs.

Not that Stewart needs defending, but in an age where national reporters tend to worship candidates, don't investigate important stories like the build up to a war and routinely ignore issues like the gutting of the Constitution, Stewart is a stalwart. He's actually asked harder questions of John McCain than just about any journalist out there (you can search on Youtube and find a few killer clips). He routinely cuts to the heart of the matter in a way "serious" journalists cannot because their craft doesn't allow it or their too busy contributing to the eventual suicide of Britney Spears. He's not a crusader, he's an intellectual who finds himself in a position where he can make important points, and he freaking does. When you criticize that, you show ignorance of what Stewart is trying to do.

If you need proof Stewart is funny, read "Naked Pictures of Famous People," a forgotten gem of a book that's dated but laugh out loud funny. See "The John Stewart Show" that lasted for about two weeks in late night in the mid-90s. Hell, see an episode of the Daily Show which packs more thought into one half hour than SNL can in 90 minutes - and he does it four nights a week.

John Stewart is tyring to help in a tangible way, and sees his job as a responsibility. Tina Fey was a pretty good weekend update host.

Photo Monday - Cotton Candy High

Sesame Street Live is a unique experience. For the kids, they get the candy, the popcorn and the joy of watching their favorite Sesame Street characters come to life on the stage. For parents its a bunch of dancers in hot, furry suits goofing around while parents exchange knowing glances.

But this time I took my oldest daughter, it was just the two of us, which means I had no one to exchange knowing glances with. I figured, when in Rome, eat an unhealthy amount of cotton candy and enjoy the show.

This is the result.

Reckless? Try Crazy

There's always been a problem with iconoclasts in our society that reminds me of how people treat a disobedient dog. Take someone like David Lynch. He has done nothing in his career but stay entirely true to his artistic muse. You can say a lot of things about David Lynch, but you can never say he's wavered. A Straight Story is made by the same guy who made Inland Empire, and you can tell. Even misfires like Dune aren't sell outs, they're David Lynch's take on Dune.

Continuing with the example, Twin Peaks always struck me as odd because Lynch, being who he was and ever shall be, created something firmly within his cannon that resonated with people for a short time. He made a mystery and the mystery intrigued people until they realized he had almost no interest in solving it, at which point they abandoned the show. But anyone who knows anything about David Lynch knows that's the way he operates. You can't berate David Lynch for not solving a mystery - he's David Lynch. Mysteries are not what he does. He's more in the scary little person, backward talking decrepit old people department than he is the mystery solving department. You can't kick a dog for eating his own poop, he's a dog. Conversely, you can't criticize an artist for being an artist as long as they're staying true to themselves.

Which brings us to Wednesday night when I saw Henry Rollins for the first time at the Rococo Theater in Lincoln. That boy can talk. For three hours he basically went on about everything from politics to music to his travels, every topic peppered with the same spicy yet endearingly obnoxious cocktail that Rollins throws on everything regardless of circumstance.

Let's back up. I unequivocally love Henry Rollins. "Weight" by Rollins Band is on my top 10 albums of all time and his spoken word shows, of which he's done literally thousands, have always been a staple for me. Truth be told, when I did stand up last year on my 30th birthday, I prepared by watching and listening to a lot of Rollins. I figured if I had his swagger or even a trace of what he captures when he grabs a mic, I wouldn't look totally ridiculous. Of course, I didn't get there, but I digress.

Catching Rollins live, or at least catching Rollins live on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 is basically everything you expect made giant. Henry is bigger when he's not far from you. His screams are louder, his anecdotes more vulgar, his artistic sensibilities more naked and his show longer. A hell of a lot longer. Rollins regaled the audience for more than 3 hours, at the end of which, you could tell, his voice was beginning to go. He talked himself hoarse, no kidding. That's something right there.

But, and it's a big but, in the amplification of an artist, the cracks begin to show. I'm not saying at any point I wanted Rollins to shut up, never never never. But the show felt long. I didn't want him to change who he was or compromise on the way he's chosen to live his life, which includes traveling to dangerous places, participating in riots and bumbling in front of Iggy Pop. But some of what he talked about is so far away from what I understand and so foreign to my sensibilities, I found myself wondering what possesses a man to live like that. At some point, Rollins and his exploits became easier to respect and harder to admire, if that makes any sense.

Of course you can't be disappointed in the show any more than you can be at David Lynch for not gift wrapping Twin Peaks for the audience - Rollins is who he is and I couldn't change that if I wanted to, which I don't. It's good a guy like Henry is out there and I still love his work, just on somewhat of a different level. I guess hero worship or Rollins officially died Wednesday night, and was replaced with the idea of a man true to his craft and muse. I'm not sure it's a higher pantheon, but it's going to hold up longer, I think.

Among the highlights of the show for me:

-Henry reads many of the same political blogs I do like shakespearessister, feministing, and the Crooks and Liars. Kinda cool.

-My favorite story, related to Henry through a woman in Minneapolis, I think, involved a woman who got pregnant in a unique way. Two couples were going at each other, one in the front seat, one in the back. When the front seat guy finished his fornicating, he gave the condom he was wearing to the guy in the backseat. Ew. But the backseat Romeo turned the condom inside out because it would be gay to screw your girlfriend while wearing someone else's already wet raincoat. Backseat girl got pregnant, but not from the guy she was having sex with. Double ew.

-His bit on the Ruts is fantastic.




-Finally, he told a great story about being how traveling is the route to hard core knowledge. When you see something with your own eyes, he reasons, the facts are iron clad in your mind instead of what you read. He went on for about an hour about this, but it's a valid point.

Tap Tap. Who's There? Suicidal Cardinal. Suicidal Cardinal Who?

I have mirrored glass in my office which makes for some pretty interesting spring and summer afternoons. Like today.

For a good half hour, this cardinal attacked my window while I was trying to work. I put up a white piece of paper to scare it away (a trick that's worked before) but this was a persistent little pecker. I took the paper down and figured, what the hell, let's get a blog post out of it.

The funny thing is, he's still here, pecking pecking pecking. It's an amazingly colored bird but it either must want to die or is really keen on fighting with another bird. Really keen.

This reminds me of the first day I came to work, out the same window, two ducks decided to have sex in the grass right outside the door. It was my own personal Donald and Minnie peep show and...

GOD, HE'S STILL PECKING!!

I gotta go kick some cardinal ass.

Taken From The Wire, Posted Without Comment

WICHITA, Kan. (AP) — Authorities are considering charges in the bizarre case of a woman who sat on her boyfriend’s toilet for two years — so long that her body was stuck to the seat by the time the boyfriend finally called police.

Ness County Sheriff Bryan Whipple said it appeared the 35-year-old Ness City woman’s skin had grown around the seat. She initially refused emergency medical services but was finally convinced by responders and her boyfriend that she needed to be checked out at a hospital.

“We pried the toilet seat off with a pry bar and the seat went with her to the hospital,” Whipple said. “The hospital removed it.”

Whipple said investigators planned to present their report Wednesday to the county attorney, who will determine whether any charges should be filed against the woman’s 36-year-old boyfriend.

“She was not glued. She was not tied. She was just physically stuck by her body,” Whipple said. “It is hard to imagine. ... I still have a hard time imagining it myself.”

He told investigators he brought his girlfriend food and water, and asked her every day to come out of the bathroom.“And her reply would be, ‘Maybe tomorrow,”’ Whipple said. “According to him, she did not want to leave the bathroom.”

The boyfriend called police on Feb. 27 to report that “there was something wrong with his girlfriend,” Whipple said, adding that he never explained why it took him two years to call.Police found the clothed woman sitting on the toilet, her sweat pants down to her mid-thigh. She was “somewhat disoriented,” and her legs looked like they had atrophied, Whipple said.

“She said that she didn’t need any help, that she was OK and did not want to leave,” he said.She was reported in fair condition at a hospital in Wichita, about 150 miles southeast of Ness City.

Whipple said she has refused to cooperate with medical providers or law enforcement investigators.Authorities said they did not know if she was mentally or physically disabled.Police have declined to release the couple’s names, but the house where authorities say the incident happened is listed in public records as the residence of Kory McFarren. No one answered his home phone number.

The case has been the buzz Ness City, said James Ellis, a neighbor.“I don’t think anybody can make any sense out of it,” he said.

Ellis said he had known the woman since she was a child but that he had not seen her for at least six years. He said she had a tough childhood after her mother died at a young age and apparently was usually kept inside the house as she grew up. At one time the woman worked for a long-term care facility, he said, but he did not know what kind of work she did there.

“It really doesn’t surprise me,” Ellis said of the bathroom incident. “What surprises me is somebody wasn’t called in a bit earlier.”