No Job Is Beneath You

I have a feeling I'm going to sound old-fogey-ish with this, but I guess that happens as time goes by (although I don't ever remember feeling differently about this issue). See, when I was growing up, I wanted -- and really needed -- to work. I was responsible for my own car, my own car repairs, my own car insurance, my own bills, and any "fancy" clothes that I might want. So I worked. And I grew up with the understanding that, if you got a job, you worked it, no matter what kind of job it was. And if you couldn't find a job doing something you really wanted to do, you found a job doing something so that they would pay you every week.

So I've done everything: I picked apples. I pumped gas and learned how to change oil, tune-up cars, do brakes, and replace clutches, among other things. I worked retail in several different places -- and one lovely task involved unloading a tractor-trailer full of charcoal briquets at one particular drug store I worked at. I drove limos, worked in radio, worked as a statistician, and have (finally!) settled into a career in law. But even as a lawyer, when I moved from Ohio to New Jersey, and had to await bar results, I still had to eat and pay bills. So, I worked for a temp agency, and wound up on loading docks, on an assembly line, as a secretary, and as a records researcher -- all the while with a law degree in my back pocket. The point is I worked at whatever I had to work at because that's how you feed yourself and your family. Lounging around, waiting for the "right" opportunity, was never an option. That's not how I was raised, and that's not what you do.

But in the time we live now, too many Americans -- some young, and some old -- think that it is beneath them to work at a particular job, or in a particular field, or even to put in what they consider "long" hours. People rail against illegal immigrants taking American jobs, yet many of the jobs in question -- floor sweeper, demolition laborer on a construction site, house painter, maid, toilet cleaner at fast food joints -- are jobs that many Americans simply refuse to take. I have heard people say, "I won't take that position -- I'm better than that." Or, "I don't want to get up at 6:00 a.m. to get to work." Or, "It's too hot to work outside in the summer." Please.

People think that work is supposed to be a "fun" place. It's not. It's work. That's why they call it "work." If it was fun, they'd call it "play." Sure, some folks are fortunate enough to land in a field that they truly enjoy, but there's still crap to put up with even in a dream job. My dream job was when I was a dj -- I loved it, but not every minute of it. I worked holidays, including Christmas day. I had to get up at 4:00 a.m. to make the air by 6. But I did it because that's what you do.

People think work is supposed to be TV-type glamorous, Mary Tyler Moore-esq, "The Office"-type places to work. Again, there are moments like that in any job, but it's still a job, and you just do it.

If the only job you can get is hauling rocks from a construction site to a dumpster, who do you think you are to believe that that job is beneath you? It's a job. It pays you money. In some cases, it gives you benefits, and if it doesn't include benefits, that's all the more reason to work, so you can afford things like doctors and dentists. A job -- any job -- is guaranteed money in your pocket every week. And if it doesn't pay enough, you know what you do? You find another, better-paying job. But you keep working at the job you're at while you look, because you still have to eat.

People -- both young and old -- are so spoiled in this country, it is almost sickening. No one is guaranteed anything in life, and life doesn't owe you anything, either. You can take the bull by the horns and make a name for yourself, but you've got to take the initiative. Starring in "The Real World" is not a career path. The guys who give out jobs aren't coming to your door to offer one to you; you've got to go get it, go find it, or find something that you can do that can pay you money on a regular basis. And showing that you're a hard worker -- whether you're stocking shelves or parking cars at a restaurant -- is an important step in showing that you're a responsible human being, and not just a spoiled brat.

Immigrants are people too.

Was watching ABC Primetime tonight, and they did an interesting piece on their "What Would You Do?" segment. In a deli in Linden, New Jersey, they put an actor behind the counter acting like a total tool when waiting on two other actors posing as Mexican day laborers. (For those who don't know, these are folks, some here legally, some not, who live in and around towns and gather at certain spots around town, waiting for contractors, construction firms, carpenters, painters, etc., to come round and offer them a day's worth of work. Many -- if not most -- have little, if any, ability to speak English, but they can work, so they do, and contractors use them freely, easily, and voluntarily.)

Anyway, with hidden cameras rolling, the actor behind the counter took the position that he would not serve the actor-day laborers who were trying to buy a sandwich and a cup of coffee, because they couldn't speak English. He called them illegals, told them to go to Taco Bell to get service, and said he wouldn't serve them. It got ugly (play-acting ugly, of course, but it looked real enough). The point of the story was to elicit reactions from others in the store.

88 people were subject to the "show." 44 took no position. 9 sided with the clerk, some vehemently, telling the workers to get out of the store or the cops would be called, another saying he'd like to hang out with the clerk. But the rest stood up -- vigorously -- in support of the workers. One lady was in tears over the treatment, canceled her food order, and left. Another guy -- an obvious regular -- called the manager over and told him to straighten out the obnoxious clerk. One lady I thought was gonna go over the counter after the clerk, calling him an asshole, and looked like she'd rip his throat out with her bare hands if she could get to him.

It was good to see. Yes, I know -- illegal immigrants take jobs. I know they don't "follow the rules" and they should. I know they don't speak the language, and they should try to assimilate more. But they're still people. Legal or illegal, that doesn't change the fact that they are entitled to the same humane, decent treatment you would show any other human being. And, they do take jobs -- but the jobs that a good number of Americans these days find "beneath them" (which I'm going to discuss in a minute, in another post.) It would be one thing if illegals were coming to this country and taking CEO positions, and IT jobs and such. But they're coming here and picking apples in orchards, and cleaning toilets in McDonalds, and hauling rocks from a construction site. Should they be legal? Of course. But should they not be here at all? See what happens to this country if that ever happens.

My "Glad" List for 2009

I've seen too many posts to start this year about people "wishing" for that, or "hoping" for this.....I thought an "I'm Glad For" list might be appropriate:

1. I’m glad we didn’t have macbooks, psp’s, gameboys, and dvd players when I was a kid — it helped me learn to interact with people (my parents and siblings) on long drives and on tv-free vacations, and it forced us to be creative to entertain ourselves with games like “The Alphabet Game” and “20 Questions” (which I’ve passed on to my kids).

2. I’m glad we had to sit around the table for dinner every night when I was a kid, instead of eating in front of the TV, or on the couch, because I learned how to have a conversation, how to listen, and how to behave in a restaurant.

3. I’m glad my parents didn’t overindulge me with every gift I could conceive of (not that they were in any position to do so) because it taught me how to appreciate those gifts that I did get.

4. I’m glad I had to start working at 15 in order to make enough money for my own car, car insurance, and expenses, because it taught me to appreciate my things more, and taught me responsibility.

5. I’m glad that I learned how to apologize as a kid, because it is far better to take ownership of the mistakes you make, rather than try to pin the blame on someone else.

6. I’m glad I turned out the way I am, because, while I’m not perfect by any stretch, I’m cofortable in my own skin, and in my life.

A Message to Our Children

I gave you life, but I can not live it for you.
I can teach you things, but I can not make you learn.
I can give you directions, but I can not always be there to lead you.
I can allow you freedom, but I can not account for it.
I can take you to church, but I can not make you believe.
I can teach you right from wrong, but I can not always decide for you.
I can buy you beautiful clothes, but I can not make you lovely inside.
I can offer you advice, but I can not accept it for you.
I can give you love, but I can not force it upon you.
I can teach you to be a friend, but I can not make you one.
I can teach you to share, but I can not make you unselfish.
I can teach you repsect, but I can not teach you honor.
I can grieve about your report card, but I can not doubt your teachers.
I can advise you about friends, but I can not choose them for you.
I can teach you about sex, but I can not keep you pure.
I can tell you the facts of life, but I can not build your reputation.
I can tell you about drink, but I can not say NO for you.
I can warn you about drugs, but I can not prevent you from using them.
I can tell you about lofty goals, but I can not achieve them for you.
I can let you babysit, but I can not be accountable for your actions.
I can teach you kindness, but I can not force you to be gracious.
I can warn you about sins, but I can not make your morals.
I can love you as a daughter or son, but I can not place you in God’s family.
I can pray for you, but I can not make you walk with God.

— The Rev. Dr. John L. Hines

Smoking

I first smoked when I was in the second grade. No, really. My family was living overseas and I fell in with a crowd of older kids who got their kicks pinching cigarettes from folks who'd left them with their belongings at poolside while they swam a few laps. So, my "gang" would lift a few cigarettes here and there, and then we'd all run off into the bushes to smoke. I don't remember too much about the actual "smoking" itself, but I was accepted by the "big" kids, so I remember being content. When we got back to the US, there was no pool, no "cool" big kids, and no one pinching cigarettes for me so, in a non-smoking household, I had no reason, and no opportunity, to keep up the habit.

I didn't pick up a cigarette again for another twelve years. Then, in college, I hooked up with a girl who smoked, and she found it relaxing and calming, so I tried it again (college being a semi-stressful time, especially around exam time). And she was right -- the act of smoking, and the nicotine, was relaxing and calming. Lighting a cigarette, by itself, was a ritualistic event. Then, the slow inhale of smoke, and the slight nicotine buzz you got, had a calming effect.

At the time, though, I was also playing basketball. Smoking and basketball does not mix (imagine that). All that smoke tends to clog up the lungs, and basketball was far more important to me, so I stopped after a few months. Cold turkey. No problem. I just stopped, and didn't pick up another cigarette for almost a decade.

Law school brought the cigarettes home again. Stressed out and anxious during my first year (which took place after I'd worked in the "real world" for a few years), I remembered the calming effect of the cigs, so went back to them, to help get me through the first few months of being a 1L (first year law student). But basketball saved me again; I hooked up with a bunch of basketball players during that first year and, three times a week, we all had a 3 hour block of time between classes, so we'd play pick-up games for a couple hours, to relieve stress and escape from the rigors of class. That, plus my running (I was doing about four miles a day on non-basketball days), kept me from letting the cigarettes take over. So I stopped smoking again, cold turkey, for a few more years.

I picked them up again in 1993, during the first year of my now soon-to-be-ending marriage. Again, stress and anxiety brought them into my life, and again working out and athletics (mostly running) chased them out.

2007 brought the return of the cigarettes. The recent loss of my dad, the demise of the marriage, the sickness and ultimate passing of my mom (and several other personal things going on that I have yet to chronicle) brought stress back into my life by the boatload. Enter the Camel (my brand of choice). I started up again in November 2007, and have yet to put them down. I'm only smoking about a half-pack (usually less) each day, but they certainly do help me handle the stress. It's something about the nicotine, and it's something about the act of lighting up, and sitting still, and not doing anything else but focusing on the cigarette, that slows life down, and calms me down. And, unfortunately for me, I don't have basketball right now, and I'm so tired of running (after many, many years of doing it) that I don't have the athletic counter that always seemed to intervene on my behalf.

Of course I know that smoking's not healthy. But it certainly is enjoyable, at least to me, and at least for now. Plus, smoking is cool, right? That's what it says here, isn't it?

And here, too, right?

And here are six reasons why I should keep smoking.

And what about the cool image that smoking projects?






I know I should quit. But this is actually the first time that I haven't really wanted to, and haven't really had the incentive to do so. There's still too much stress, I still look forward to the little peace that a cigarette break can bring, and I do enjoy my cigarette and coffee on those mornings when I actually have time for them.

But I will quit. I'm actually starting to miss basketball again, and I'm actually starting to miss my running again. I'm not smoking enough to stop me from doing either one of these things, but I know that I'll do them better without tobacco. So I will quit. I should. Just not quite yet.

The Bad Year . . . Or Two

So I've mentioned in various places that I lost a lot of time from keeping up with both this blog, and my self-imposed duties at my Ask A Lawyer blog. As I sort of explained in May 2007, I lost my dad in November 2006. He and my mom were married for 47 years, and, as you might expect, she did not handle his passing very well.

There was a year there, from about March 2007 to about January 2008 where she really needed a lot of hand-holding and guidance and I, being the oldest (and geographically the closest) was the obvious choice to do the guiding and hand-holding (well, at least the bulk of it.) Well, she took ill in March 2008, and began a slow spiral downward, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I'm pretty sure she just gave up on life; she just didn't want to go on without my dad. She died on 8/8/08.

In this same time frame, my wife and I split, in November 2007. My choice, for various reasons. So, during the same time I'm holding my mother's hand through life, I'm divvying up property with my wife, and, at the same time, trying to make this . . . . transitional family unit, for lack of a better term, as pain-free as possible for my kids. (My soon-to-be-ex and I have actually been very successful in that regard because, if nothing else, we both put the kids first.)

So anyway, there, in three paragraphs, is the nutshell version of where I've been and what I've been doing.

Yeah, I know. You want to details. Well, I'm not so good on details. I guess if you've read this far, you probably want to know more, but I'm not so good at "opening up," which is probably a bad thing when running a blog like this. I mean, this generation (listen to me, sounding like my old man) is all about openness, and having no secrets, and sharing feelings, and blah-de-blah. Yeah, well, I'm not so good at that. Snarky reviews. Sure. Sarcastic observations. Check. Analytical essays. That I can do. Opening up in an on-line diary? Not so much.

But, who knows? Maybe in time, I'll feel compelled to provide more detail. Let's see what happens.

What's the opposite of gouging?

I've talked about gas prices a few times, most notably here. That's back when gas jumped a ridiculous 60 cents between morning and night, for no apparent reason. Back then, in September 2005, $3.57 a gallon was not unheard of. Last summer, in June and July 2008, it was even worse. I paid more than $4.00 a gallon at some points.

Now, look:



I actually paid $1.54 for regular today. That's almost 66% less than I paid 5 months ago, and just goes to prove how artificial the oil prices are, how manipulative the oil companies are, and how gullible the people are. The "powers that be" blame the drop on the recession. Okay, except, what other product has dropped it's retail price 66% in the past five months? Can I get a 32 inch LCD HDTV anywhere for $200 today? Nope. Is my Quik Chek coffee costing me only 37 cents a cup now? Nope. Is my grocery bill two-thirds what it was last summer? Nope. Only gas.

Prices for barrels of oil are WAY down. The average price of a gallon of gas dropped 22 cents in the past two weeks, and has dropped over two dollars and forty-five cents in the past five months. That just proves it's all fake. Whether it's OPEC, or the oil companies, or speculators, or what have you -- the prices were always artificially inflated and kept that way.

What I'm hoping now is that all those speculators who were buying oil futures last summer, who kept prices at artificially high levels, and did so expecting a huge profit because of the rising oil prices, are taking the financial beating they deserve. Those prices hurt so many people, and changed so many things. Airlines increased fares, and added "baggage charges," supposedly to offset their increased fuel costs. Groceries cost more because trucking things around cost more. But have those prices come down? Nope.

I blame them all. Oil companies, speculators, and OPEC producers all rakes in their millions (or at least attempted to do so) at the expense of you and me. They all deserve what they get.

The Usurpation of Country Music

Another rant, this time on behalf and in defense of my beloved country music.

Yes, I am a country music fan. My tastes don’t extend quite back to Patsy Cline, or early Johnny Cash, or Mel Tillis or George Jones. I’m more of a “new country” kind of guy. I liked Garth Brooks in his day; I like Alan Jackson, George Strait, Reba McIntire, and I’m a huge fan of Gretchen Wilson, Toby Keith, and Kenny Chesney. Martina McBride and Brooks & Dunn, and Sugarland also make regular appearances on my playlists.

But lately, there has been an influx of singers into the country world that really bothers me. Jewel is not a country singer. Ashley Simpson (*hack-phooey!*) is not a country singer. John Mellencamp (who I actually enjoy) is not a country singer. The Eagles is not a country band. Darius Rucker (the former lead singer of Hootie and the Blowfish) is not a country singer. But they’re all putting out country-sounding records now, and it really bothers me.

I know what they’re doing, and why they’re doing it, but it still bothers me. They all want to sell records, and there is no “adult contemporary” market anymore, not like there was in the 70s, 80s and early 90s. But there is a “country” market that is alive and well, and these folks are just trying to find a place to sell their records. So they “cross-over” into country. But, for me, country has a certain meaning, and a certain sound, and a certain history, that these posers don’t really have any connection to, and never will.

Gretchen, Toby, Kenny, Alan, George, Reba — they all have real roots in and a legitimate connection to country music. When any one of them sings a song about drinking, or heartbreak, or happiness, or family, or love, or humor, you can feel and hear the connection to “country.” But putting a fiddle or a Dobro guitar into a song doesn’t make you a country singer, doesn’t make your song a country song, and doesn’t give you any country credibility.

And I hate to see outlets like CMT on television, and satellite radio, wasting valuable air time on non-country acts, simply because they have a recognizable name, at the expense of legitimate country acts that could benefit from the exposure they might get if I didn’t have to waste time watching Jewel videos and listening to Ashley Simpson songs. It stinks, and I don’t like it.

The Murder of Harvey Milk

Everyone refers to the "assassination" of Harvey Milk. But that "everyone" seems to be either the media, or the gay rights community seeking a martyr for their cause. (Now, don't get me wrong -- I'm a firm believer in equality for all, and equal treatment under the law. I oppose "don't ask - don't tell" in the military, and I support equal treatment and equal benefits for same-sex partners in a civil union. ["Gay marriage" is a topic for another day.]) The fact is that Harvey Milk was murdered by an angry co-worker, at work, because of a personal dispute between them, not because of Milk's beliefs or his sexual orientation. That's not an "assassination." Milk's murder should not have become -- nor should it remain -- a cause celebre.

An assassination is a murder, to be sure. But an assassination is a murder of a prominent public or political leader undertaken for political, social, or idealogic reasons. Often, an assassination is accompanied by what the dictionaries call "treacherous violence" (the Oxford English Dictionary) and is sometimes committed by a hired killer (an assassin). Assassinations are undertaken to further a political cause or a social agenda.

In 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr., prominent for his civil rights activities and his efforts to end segregation and racial discrimination through civil disobedience, was assassinated. James Earl Ray was convicted for the crime, although people still believe he was a pawn in a wider conspiracy bent on removing King for his polictical and social beliefs.

Mohandas K. Gandhi was assassinated in 1948 by Nathuram Godse because Godse believed that Gandhi had betrayed the Hindu cause.

The Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in 1914 by Serbian nationalist insurgents. The political purpose of this killing was to effect the separation of some Slavic provinces from Austria-Hungary in order to form a Greater Serbia. This assassination led to World War I.

Four Presidents of the United States were assassinated -- Abraham Lincoln, James Garfield, William McKinley, and John F. Kennedy -- all for political reasons.

Harvey Milk's killing doesn't even come close to meeting the requirements of an assassination. Milk, who was openly gay, was killed by a co-worker named Dan White. White and Milk were initially co-workers in San Francisco, each working for the City. Milk and White, if not friends, were at least friendly with each other. In fact, Dan White actually supported some of Milk's political initiatives.

White and Milk eventually had a falling out over a land zoning matter. After that dispute, White would clash with Milk and other members of San Franciso Board of Supervisors, of which he was an elected member. White eventually resigned his seat on the Board, claiming dissatisfaction with the corrupt inner-workings of San Francisco city politics. However, White's supporters convinced him to reverse his decision to resign and seek re-appointment to the Board.

The mayor at the time, George Moscone, refused to re-appoint White to the Board. Harvey Milk was among those who opposed the re-appointment, and White knew it. When he learned of the mayor's refusal, White went to San Francisco City Hall to meet with Moscone in an effort to convince the mayor to change his mind. When Moscone refused White's request, White shot and killed him. Then, White reloaded his gun, walked over to Milk's office, and shot Milk five times. According to reports, the last shot was made at very close range. The fact that the last shot was fired at close range, according to some experts, is an indication that the shot was fired out of anger, and was personal.

On these facts, and if you want to use the word "assassination" correctly, you cannot reasonably conclude that White assassinated Milk. White didn't dislike Milk because Milk was gay. White didn't clash with Milk over gay rights issues. White didn't view Milk as some kind of beacon of hope for the gay community who had to be taken out. On these facts, White saw Milk -- and the mayor -- as standing in the way of White's re-appointment to the Board. (And let's not forget that White killed the mayor first.) This wasn't a politically motivated killing, as were any of the assassinations already mentioned. This was a deranged co-worker, flying off the handle, and taking his anger out on those he believed were responsible for his lot in life. It was a tragic, horrible event, but not any more tragic than any other deranged co-worker killings.

For instance, in the event that coined the phrase "going postal," on August 20, 1986, postman Patrick Sherrill shot and killed 14 employees, and wounded six, in Edmond, Oklahoma. In 1988, in Sunnyvale, California, a 40-year-old man, angry that a former co-worker at ESL Corp. had rejected his advances, stormed into the company and killed 7 people with a shotgun before surrendering. In November, 1999, in Honolulu, a 40-year-old man killed 7 of his co-workers at a Xerox facility. Sadly, this list of workplace shootings could go on and on. The murder of Harvey Milk was no different from any of these other workplace shootings.

So why do people insist on characterizing Milk's murder as an "assassination"? Agendas. People are motivated by agendas, and the fact that Milk happened to be gay, and happened to be killed at work in City Hall make it easy to transmogrify his murder into an assassination in order to further the cause of gay rights. As the purported victim of "assassination," Milk can now be used to highlight the hatred for gays that, concededly, does exist in this country. To be sure, this issue needs to be highlighted, and needs to be resolved. There is no room in this country for such hatred, animosity, and discrimination merely because of a person's sexual orientation. But why manufacture something? Why create an issue where none exists? Why make Harvey Milk a martyr for the cause when he was, in actuality, simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Creating something out of nothing is what I really have a problem with here. There are plenty of appropriate examples of violence against gays that would serve as examples of the hatred that must be eradicated without the necessity of turning Harvey Milk into a martyr, or a saint.

Matthew Shepard is the first name that springs to mind. He was killed in 1998, simply because he was gay. His is the kind of tragic story that should evoke the sympathy, empathy, and anger of others. (The Matthew Shepard Foundation is a prime example of the good that can come out of a senseless tragedy, and is a beacon of hope against the hatred that spawned Matthew's death. It does good work that should be supported and continued.)

A lesser known, but equally tragic figure, is Rebecca Wight. She was killed simply because of her lesbian relationship with her partner.

These last two (and there are countless more) are examples of the mindless, senseless, and tragic violence against lesbians and gays that should be held out as examples of the kind of conduct and intolerance that should not be accepted under any circumstances in this country. But creating a martyr, and trying to make an event, like the Milk Murder, into something that it is not, undermines the entire movement and is a disservice to those like Shepard and Wight.