At last year's Cleveland International Film Festival a rousing documentary was shown called "Pride" in which the narrator travels to a handful of notoriously anti-gay countries and pro-gay countries to see how they celebrate Gay Pride. Most of the film centers around Russia, Moscow specifically, and a man named Nicholai Aleksev.
In the film the narrator tries to meet Aleksev who then brings together a group of supporters at an undisclosed location. They use covert phone calls with mysterious coded messages just in case they are being recorded or the phones are tapped. They issue a statement to the media they will be organizing a protest in one location, but instead go to another location so they won't get any reporters or secret police showing up. They launch a parade that consists of only a few people with a couple signs, but the parade is over in a minute because they don't want to attract too much attention. It's very cloak and dagger. Watching the film makes one shake their head in shame at how these poor gay rights activists must live in the shadows. The film lauds Aleksev tirelessly; you simply cannot help but sing his praises. And of course we have all read stories of how Moscow wouldn't allow gay marches, etc. so the film rings very true. By the end of the film nearly everyone who was present in the earlier meeting has been arrested for "seeding civil unrest".
I made friends with Aleksev on Facebook so I could show my international support for his cause. That's when things took a strange turn. Amid the fervent supporters I started noticing some detractors, and astonishingly, some of these detractors were Russian. Before he suddenly de-friended them and erased their posts, these detractors claimed they were meeting openly in Moscow and forming distinct political movements which were gaining some traction. They claimed Aleksev was making gay rights all about Aleksev and his cloak and dagger routine was simply an act to gain international support. Aleksev brushed off the complainers as people who didn't have vision, or as simply people who didn't like Aleksev.
Last year, on his Facebook page, Aleksev claimed he was thinking about coming to America. His American fans clamored to be the first ones to welcome him. Then he dramatically claimed he would never set foot in the country because he "hates" America with every 'cell in his body'. He made a number of such statements, but his fans reassured him they would still welcome him and reminded him that American politics don't necessarily reflect the attitudes and beliefs of the people. He finally gave in and decided he would plan a trip to the United States.
Finally, Nicolai Aleksev made his voyage to the U.S., paid for in part by the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) and some Californian gay rights groups. They set up a number of press interviews and a couple of speaking engagements, selling reasonably priced tickets to sell-out crowds. Nicolai "joked" that he was going to enter the country and while at customs he would create a commotion. His American sponsors/handlers asked him not to play around in such a manner, as he could get himself thrown out of the country. He entered quietly and safely.
As he made his way across the country, Aleksev gave interviews, most of which had been previously arranged by his handlers. Everyone counted on Aleksev being extremely outspoken in his views. What they didn't count on was that his views would also be extreme in unexpected ways. His HRC handlers began to terminate the interviews and cut the press junket short, hurriedly rushing him to California and avoiding the rest of America. Rumors began to spread that Aleksev was not only fervent in his support of gay rights, but also a racist, an anti-semite, an anti-Muslim, an anti-American, an anti-anti. He seemed to dislike everyone who was not a white Russian gay male.
When he got to California, Aleksev had grown tired of being told "not to speak". On the day of the big presentation and speech, Aleksev balked and refused to go. He found a few "friends" who took him out on the town to a myriad of gay bars and venues. Then he was asked, perhaps not politely, to pack his bags and go back to Russia. Tickets were refunded. His final parting words were delivered in a couple of interviews where he claimed his HRC handlers had badly managed him, had coerced him into delivering only prepared speeches, and refused to let him have the "freedom of speech" that American's tout so much.
Upon returning to his homeland Aleksev issued statement after statement condemning America and their support of the "evil Israel state". He then said he'd been arrested by secret police and held in a prison in rural Russia, but then the next day he was on a plane to Switzerland. He claimed to be poor, yet he vacationed in Switzerland for three weeks and then moved there at the beginning of 2011. His Facebook page documents at least three separate vacations since that time. It's good work when you can get it. His Facebook page also documents his extremely anti-semitic views, not just political views on the state of Israel, but how Jews ruin the world. He pulls no punches when it comes to his hatred of Americans, Muslims, and Arabs.
Aleksev may have helped the gay rights movement in Russia, or perhaps, as other gay groups in Russia claim, he has hindered them by focusing on getting arrested and making grand speeches which only help to buoy the anti-gay rhetoric of politicians. The New York Times recently called him the "face of gay rights in Russia". This is certainly so since his is the only gay face from Russia we've seen.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
on Karma
Hindus believe that people are born into particular castes: the Brahmins or Priests, the Kshatriyas or Rulers, the Vaisyas or Skilled Tradespersons, Merchants and Minor Officials, the Sudras or Unskilled Laborers and the Pariahs "Harijans" or Outcastes. You must do the best that you can with your lot in life. If you are born a Vaisya, you can be a merchant, but be the best merchant possible, and even be a rich and successful merchant. However, you are not supposed to cross over to another caste. For instance, if you are a merchant, you are not supposed to desire to be a priest, that would generate Karma. If you accept your lot in life, be happy and don't strive to be something else, you will eliminate Karma and make your future lives better. If you live your life without generating Karma, then your next life may be in a higher caste.
This goes against the American grain. In the U.S. we are told as children that we can be anything we want to be as long as we have the will and determination. We can even become President of the United States! For many people this concept develops itself into a constant dissatisfaction with their lot in life. Let's face it, only one person, up to now always white male, gets to be the President every four to eight years. That leaves an awful lot of people who will simply not be President.
I'm not advocating giving up and rolling over when conditions are truly bad. Just think about where you are in life and ask yourself if you'll ever be satisfied. Have you always told yourself, "I'm just working at this job as a stepping stone to something higher"? Of course you have. Very few people are at the "top of their game". Once we have a supervisor position we are taught, even by our own bosses, that if we aren't shooting for upper management then we just aren't "motivated". We must always desire to "better ourselves" and "move up the ladder".
I was at a dinner a while back when a dear relative announced after all the years of trying, she was finally pregnant. Both her mother and her mother-in-law openly wept at the "miracle". It had finally happened. God had finally blessed them with a grandchild. However, not more than a couple of minutes had passed when the mother-in-law announced that twins run on her side of the family. Both of the mothers instantly burst into exclamations of how truly wonderful it would be if only they were blessed with twin grandchildren instead of just one. I was appalled. Their brief moment of happiness was immediately quashed with the instant desire for something better.
My father, as a senior retiree, was invited to take part in a project put on by the police of Eugene, Oregon. He and a group of fellow seniors would walk around the downtown malls and write "tickets" on any vehicle parked in a handicap space without a visible permit. The tickets were not-so-friendly reminders and carried no actual weight, but it scared the bejeebus out of people. My father got huge satisfaction out of it. However, once the ticketed person realized it wasn't an actual ticket, they usually threw the paper away. My father decided to start wearing a jacket which looked similar to a police uniform. He kept asking for a shirt that read "police", but of course they kept refusing him. Eventually he quit the group. Just issuing a reminder wasn't enough for him; he yearned for real power.
I think we have all, from time to time, felt inferior to others. I don't make very much money, so I feel slightly inferior to rich people. I don't have an expensive education, so I can get a bit inferior-feeling when surrounded by Harvard and Yale alumni. Of course this is ingrained into us. The colleges themselves drum the concept of superiority into their students, who are paying for the education and therefor want something in return for their money. If the student is going to spend a great deal of money, more than someone going to a "lesser" college, they want to feel they are getting the superior education. I've been in a room where people are discussing a not-present colleague and I've been absolutely flabbergasted when they say, "yes, but she went to Cleveland State", so obviously her education doesn't count for much.
All this striving, inferiority, superiority, power, yearning, is creating so much karma in the world.
My mother used to work for Key Bank. She worked and worked, put up with office politics, suffered through strategic realignments as her branch was bought and sold several times, and always she had a goal in mind: one day she would retire and take it easy, or maybe travel, or maybe take up some kind of hobby. She was never satisfied, always working for that elusive future. When my father retired early, it forced her to put off retirement for a few more years than she had planned. Then she developed breast cancer and passed away. There never was a retirement, an easy time, a travel plan, or a new found hobby. She spent her life striving for something better that never came. So much karma.
So ask yourself, "when will I be satisfied?" Is it in the future somewhere?
This goes against the American grain. In the U.S. we are told as children that we can be anything we want to be as long as we have the will and determination. We can even become President of the United States! For many people this concept develops itself into a constant dissatisfaction with their lot in life. Let's face it, only one person, up to now always white male, gets to be the President every four to eight years. That leaves an awful lot of people who will simply not be President.
I'm not advocating giving up and rolling over when conditions are truly bad. Just think about where you are in life and ask yourself if you'll ever be satisfied. Have you always told yourself, "I'm just working at this job as a stepping stone to something higher"? Of course you have. Very few people are at the "top of their game". Once we have a supervisor position we are taught, even by our own bosses, that if we aren't shooting for upper management then we just aren't "motivated". We must always desire to "better ourselves" and "move up the ladder".
I was at a dinner a while back when a dear relative announced after all the years of trying, she was finally pregnant. Both her mother and her mother-in-law openly wept at the "miracle". It had finally happened. God had finally blessed them with a grandchild. However, not more than a couple of minutes had passed when the mother-in-law announced that twins run on her side of the family. Both of the mothers instantly burst into exclamations of how truly wonderful it would be if only they were blessed with twin grandchildren instead of just one. I was appalled. Their brief moment of happiness was immediately quashed with the instant desire for something better.
My father, as a senior retiree, was invited to take part in a project put on by the police of Eugene, Oregon. He and a group of fellow seniors would walk around the downtown malls and write "tickets" on any vehicle parked in a handicap space without a visible permit. The tickets were not-so-friendly reminders and carried no actual weight, but it scared the bejeebus out of people. My father got huge satisfaction out of it. However, once the ticketed person realized it wasn't an actual ticket, they usually threw the paper away. My father decided to start wearing a jacket which looked similar to a police uniform. He kept asking for a shirt that read "police", but of course they kept refusing him. Eventually he quit the group. Just issuing a reminder wasn't enough for him; he yearned for real power.
I think we have all, from time to time, felt inferior to others. I don't make very much money, so I feel slightly inferior to rich people. I don't have an expensive education, so I can get a bit inferior-feeling when surrounded by Harvard and Yale alumni. Of course this is ingrained into us. The colleges themselves drum the concept of superiority into their students, who are paying for the education and therefor want something in return for their money. If the student is going to spend a great deal of money, more than someone going to a "lesser" college, they want to feel they are getting the superior education. I've been in a room where people are discussing a not-present colleague and I've been absolutely flabbergasted when they say, "yes, but she went to Cleveland State", so obviously her education doesn't count for much.
All this striving, inferiority, superiority, power, yearning, is creating so much karma in the world.
My mother used to work for Key Bank. She worked and worked, put up with office politics, suffered through strategic realignments as her branch was bought and sold several times, and always she had a goal in mind: one day she would retire and take it easy, or maybe travel, or maybe take up some kind of hobby. She was never satisfied, always working for that elusive future. When my father retired early, it forced her to put off retirement for a few more years than she had planned. Then she developed breast cancer and passed away. There never was a retirement, an easy time, a travel plan, or a new found hobby. She spent her life striving for something better that never came. So much karma.
So ask yourself, "when will I be satisfied?" Is it in the future somewhere?
Sunday, June 5, 2011
on Movies
Movie Review time: (warning, do give away some pertinent details of these movies which could spoil the film for you. I won't explicitly tell you the ending, but many of the details lead directly to the endings)
Over the last few days I have seen The Adjustment Bureau, Limitless, and Source Code.
The Adjustment Bureau: 3 out of 5 stars.
Matt Damon stars as a rising politician who has a chance encounter with a lovely woman that changes his mind about a speech, thereby altering his own fate. A mysterious group of men control fate, and have set up this "chance encounter". However, due to an error, he runs into the woman again and this sets off a chain of reactions in time. The Adjustment Bureau must correct the time line by keeping Damon and the woman apart. As the old saying goes, 'you cannot un-ring a bell', so Damon is rightfully aggravated and decides to fight the "powers that be".
The movie plods along through the encounters between Damon and the woman and the pace doesn't really pick up until Damon discovers what the Bureau does. Even then we must watch as Damon gets more and more frustrated. Finally the movie and the characters take off when Damon decides to fight fate. The message of self-determination versus prewritten fate is heavy handed but necessary to the plot. The Christian demagoguery is a bit overdone and by the end of the movie everyone should know what will happen or they just haven't been paying attention.
Limitless: 4 out of 5 stars.
The Hangover's Bradley Cooper stars as a deadbeat writer who's laziness and procrastination drives everything away from him. His "dealer" former brother-in-law slips him a dose of a new experimental drug which stimulates the "unused" portion of the brain, turning a deadbeat into an intellectual and financial genius. The memory call-ups seem a bit like the television show "Chuck", while the concept of the drug's side effects and waring-off symptoms is reminiscent of the novel "Flowers for Algernon".
Cooper does a pretty good job being the quasi-hipster turned into the Wall Street douchebag. The story is fairly well thought out and has a bit of a surprise ending.
Source Code: 4 out of 5 stars.
Cow-eyed Jake Gyllenhaal plays a man who must use 8 minutes of the past to stop a train from blowing up. Each time he returns to the train he gathers just a little bit more information. Of course his mission is derailed (pun intended) when he begins to care about one of the passengers and about his own mysterious past. The script is well crafted and the mysteries are layered over themselves. The big boss Ruttledge is the only down-side to the film as his acting seems stilted and amateurish. The end of the film probably creates a few more questions than it should, but time travel/alternate realities tend to do that.
Over the last few days I have seen The Adjustment Bureau, Limitless, and Source Code.
The Adjustment Bureau: 3 out of 5 stars.
Matt Damon stars as a rising politician who has a chance encounter with a lovely woman that changes his mind about a speech, thereby altering his own fate. A mysterious group of men control fate, and have set up this "chance encounter". However, due to an error, he runs into the woman again and this sets off a chain of reactions in time. The Adjustment Bureau must correct the time line by keeping Damon and the woman apart. As the old saying goes, 'you cannot un-ring a bell', so Damon is rightfully aggravated and decides to fight the "powers that be".
The movie plods along through the encounters between Damon and the woman and the pace doesn't really pick up until Damon discovers what the Bureau does. Even then we must watch as Damon gets more and more frustrated. Finally the movie and the characters take off when Damon decides to fight fate. The message of self-determination versus prewritten fate is heavy handed but necessary to the plot. The Christian demagoguery is a bit overdone and by the end of the movie everyone should know what will happen or they just haven't been paying attention.
Limitless: 4 out of 5 stars.
The Hangover's Bradley Cooper stars as a deadbeat writer who's laziness and procrastination drives everything away from him. His "dealer" former brother-in-law slips him a dose of a new experimental drug which stimulates the "unused" portion of the brain, turning a deadbeat into an intellectual and financial genius. The memory call-ups seem a bit like the television show "Chuck", while the concept of the drug's side effects and waring-off symptoms is reminiscent of the novel "Flowers for Algernon".
Cooper does a pretty good job being the quasi-hipster turned into the Wall Street douchebag. The story is fairly well thought out and has a bit of a surprise ending.
Source Code: 4 out of 5 stars.
Cow-eyed Jake Gyllenhaal plays a man who must use 8 minutes of the past to stop a train from blowing up. Each time he returns to the train he gathers just a little bit more information. Of course his mission is derailed (pun intended) when he begins to care about one of the passengers and about his own mysterious past. The script is well crafted and the mysteries are layered over themselves. The big boss Ruttledge is the only down-side to the film as his acting seems stilted and amateurish. The end of the film probably creates a few more questions than it should, but time travel/alternate realities tend to do that.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
on Commencement
We give important events in our lives a sense of sanctity. Without the pomp and circumstance of a graduation ceremony, graduating high school, or college would just be another day like any other. Now-a-days there are ceremonies for graduating from grade school and middle school. I wonder if this tends to water down the big ceremonies.
We don ceremonial robes, to help mark the occasion as something separate and special from our regular routine. Graduation robes at colleges tend to be styled after the clothes of the renaissance, giving a nod to the distant past as if the knowledge itself has traveled down the years, untouched and unscathed, to be delivered upon graduation.
We carry flags, march bands, brandish swords, do elaborate dances, and carry Roman-like standards to help buoy up the ceremony. We make things and events sacred by layering meaning and important-looking movements onto them. We invoke God to approve or at least look kindly on the event.
And we make speeches, heavy and meaningful, to give the event a sense of heaviness and meaning. The Commencement speech is usually delivered by someone with recognized gravitas, celebrity or learning. The speech itself is meant to spur the graduates on to great accomplishments. It is a speech to rouse the fires of purpose, to arm the arsenal of the educated minds. Such a speech should cause a sudden burst of applause, but usually only causes an obligatory and begrudged clapping of hands after it is finally done.
I was thinking to myself, as the Commencement speech was being given at my niece's College graduation. The speech was so boring and weakly assembled, my mind wandered regularly. I wondered if the speech was really necessary. Sure, we must have a Commencement speech, right? If we didn't have one, it couldn't really be a graduation ceremony. But if the speech itself is so poorly crafted, doesn't that actually denigrate the ceremony itself, thereby doing the exact opposite of its purpose? The ceremony suffers with the speech because it must have the speech.
The graduating class from this particular college was very small. A tiny bit of research could of turned the speech into something more personal, adding a little factoid about each of the graduates. This would have made the speech more memorable.
I also attended a High School graduation ceremony for over 350 students. Two speeches were made by students, one by a perky stereotypical blonde cheerleader about school spirit, and a morose speech given by a seemingly morose teenager about overcoming life's obstacles, but in reality seemed to about giving in to depression about those obstacles. The Commencement speech was given by a man dressed in layered black robes, perhaps the principal. It was unmemorable. I would bet money on the fact not a single graduate that day would be able to tell me what the Commencement speech was about, or recite a single line.
The Commencement speech is a throw-away speech. It is mandatory, but unmemorable. Can you remember your Commencement speech from your High School or College graduation?
Pomp and circumstance.
Monday, May 30, 2011
on Memory
Robert's oldest brother Richard was already serving in the military overseas when Robert was born. The age disparity was so great Robert was closer with his niece and nephews than with his own brother. Kazuko married Richard with the hopes of a new life in America, a chance to live the indelible American dream. She ended up living in Hoisington, Kansas, a tiny town in the very middle of the United States surrounded by a flat, harsh country. Kansas is hot and humid in the summer time, cold and snowy in the winter.
Now in her Seventies, Kazuko lives at a home for the elderly, her memory fading daily. She is suffering from Alzheimer's, arguably one of the cruelest diseases. Many times she things her daughter Kathy is actually her sister, coming to visit or pick her up for some event.
This past weekend Kathy earned her master's degree and Kazuko attended. I'm not certain she understood what was really occurring, but she seemed proud of Kathy. Kazuko herself had earned two bachelor's degrees in a Japanese college, a remarkable feat for a woman in those days. The next day Robert's other niece graduated High School and again Kazuko was in attendance, and again I'm not sure she understood where she was or why she was there, but all the time she smiled.
Outside the event Kazuko paid more attention to the sky than to the photo opportunities occurring around her. She pointed upward at some balloons which someone had released, floating up against a sun-setting panorama and said, "It's so beautiful!"
Although she spoke to me a couple of times, smiling all the while, she seemed a bit disturbed when I followed the group. She stayed very close to Kathy. I was a stranger and she didn't know what my intentions were. At one point she looked around at all the caps and gowns and told me that she 'had always wanted to please her father. Her father was an ambassador and traveled all the time, rarely home. By going to college and getting a good education she thought it would make him proud. However, the education would also give her the ability to survive without a father, if need be.' He disowned her when she married Richard, a deep cut that wounded her for the rest of her life.
The past is clearer than the present. The moments of clarity come and go. Are we still people when we no longer have memories, or are we really the sum of our memories and nothing else? Kazuko still feels the pain of a missing father, a lost husband and son, and she can still find beauty in the simplest of vistas.
Now in her Seventies, Kazuko lives at a home for the elderly, her memory fading daily. She is suffering from Alzheimer's, arguably one of the cruelest diseases. Many times she things her daughter Kathy is actually her sister, coming to visit or pick her up for some event.
This past weekend Kathy earned her master's degree and Kazuko attended. I'm not certain she understood what was really occurring, but she seemed proud of Kathy. Kazuko herself had earned two bachelor's degrees in a Japanese college, a remarkable feat for a woman in those days. The next day Robert's other niece graduated High School and again Kazuko was in attendance, and again I'm not sure she understood where she was or why she was there, but all the time she smiled.
Outside the event Kazuko paid more attention to the sky than to the photo opportunities occurring around her. She pointed upward at some balloons which someone had released, floating up against a sun-setting panorama and said, "It's so beautiful!"
Although she spoke to me a couple of times, smiling all the while, she seemed a bit disturbed when I followed the group. She stayed very close to Kathy. I was a stranger and she didn't know what my intentions were. At one point she looked around at all the caps and gowns and told me that she 'had always wanted to please her father. Her father was an ambassador and traveled all the time, rarely home. By going to college and getting a good education she thought it would make him proud. However, the education would also give her the ability to survive without a father, if need be.' He disowned her when she married Richard, a deep cut that wounded her for the rest of her life.
The past is clearer than the present. The moments of clarity come and go. Are we still people when we no longer have memories, or are we really the sum of our memories and nothing else? Kazuko still feels the pain of a missing father, a lost husband and son, and she can still find beauty in the simplest of vistas.
Friday, May 13, 2011
on Spying
When I was about 10 my family was visiting my Aunt Marge. During these times I usually tagged along with my cousin Debby who was two years older than me. We would occasionally take the twenty minute walk through the back woods to the reservoir, or maybe go and visit the very old alcoholic who lived in a tiny shack made of old doors. No matter where we went Debby and her friends would smoke and drink beer, even though they were only 12 or 13 years old. I tried both items and hated it so much I never touched the stuff again. I still don't smoke and extremely rarely will I ever try a beer.
One time Debby and her neighbor Raymond (who was my age and in my class at school) walked to the reservoir where we showed each other our "privates". That was the first time I ever saw a girl's "area". It really wasn't very interesting. They made me swear never to tell, but then Debby regularly used the incident as a threat: "I'll tell your mother what we did by the lake if you tell [fill in the blank, about the smoking or the drinking]". She used the threat in order to keep me silent about visiting the old drunk in the door shack since her mother forbade her to go there. He was a nice old guy who told us things about history. I think he may have been a teacher once.
During this one particular time, Debbie and Raymond and a few other of her friends decided to play a game called "spying". What this consisted of was sneaking over to a neighbor's house in the dark and watching through the windows. I didn't think this would be fun, but went along anyway. As it got progressively darker, we ventured through the woods to the Mayhews' house. Their house was a split-level ranch with huge front bay windows. They were just finishing dinner when we arrived. The light from the windows would give us away, so we carefully each took a tree to hide behind. For some weird reason, watching them walking around, silently mouthing words to one another and cleaning up their dinner table was actually fun. We found ourselves laughing, rather loudly. I had no idea about voyeurism, nor the mechanics that could create amusement, but couldn't help myself being intrigued. I wondered who one of the daughters was speaking to on the phone, or what joke Mr. Mayhew had told which had really cracked up Mrs. Mayhew.
Suddenly one of us laughed too loudly and all the Mayhews looked out, into their front yard, directly at us. Now the real excitement started. With our hearts pounding and nervous laughter erupting, we took off running, around the side of their house, headed for the woods and safety. As we were running the rest of the kids leaped into the air. As I was wondering why they had leaped, I suddenly became aware that I was falling.
The Mayhews had what is traditionally called an "open sewer" which consisted of a ditch about four feet deep by two feet wide. It ran from the house to a cess pool about 40 yards away. The sewer was full of green algae, water, and of course solid and liquid waste, exposed to the air. Although these types of sewers were and are illegal in many areas, this was rural Oregon in the seventies and many farmsteads still had them.
Being only 10 my chin was just above the "water" line. My hands clung wildly to the grass on the banks, keeping me from sinking further. The outdoor lights came on and a door opened. I was soon lifted from the ocher and stood on the Mayhews' cement patio. I took off my clothes, except for my underwear as they hosed me off with freezing water. Debby and friends returned to the house and she made a call to my mother.
I had to walk all the way back through the woods, barefoot, my reeking wet clothes in a garbage bag. My mother's mood was odd; she seemed disappointed that I had allowed myself to get into such a mess. I don't think there was a punishment for any of the night's activities. I supposed they felt I'd suffered enough of a trauma. To this day I can remember the grisly details I've left out of this post, and they are nausea inducing.
Okay, now that you're sufficiently grossed out, you can return to whatever you were doing previously.
One time Debby and her neighbor Raymond (who was my age and in my class at school) walked to the reservoir where we showed each other our "privates". That was the first time I ever saw a girl's "area". It really wasn't very interesting. They made me swear never to tell, but then Debby regularly used the incident as a threat: "I'll tell your mother what we did by the lake if you tell [fill in the blank, about the smoking or the drinking]". She used the threat in order to keep me silent about visiting the old drunk in the door shack since her mother forbade her to go there. He was a nice old guy who told us things about history. I think he may have been a teacher once.
During this one particular time, Debbie and Raymond and a few other of her friends decided to play a game called "spying". What this consisted of was sneaking over to a neighbor's house in the dark and watching through the windows. I didn't think this would be fun, but went along anyway. As it got progressively darker, we ventured through the woods to the Mayhews' house. Their house was a split-level ranch with huge front bay windows. They were just finishing dinner when we arrived. The light from the windows would give us away, so we carefully each took a tree to hide behind. For some weird reason, watching them walking around, silently mouthing words to one another and cleaning up their dinner table was actually fun. We found ourselves laughing, rather loudly. I had no idea about voyeurism, nor the mechanics that could create amusement, but couldn't help myself being intrigued. I wondered who one of the daughters was speaking to on the phone, or what joke Mr. Mayhew had told which had really cracked up Mrs. Mayhew.
Suddenly one of us laughed too loudly and all the Mayhews looked out, into their front yard, directly at us. Now the real excitement started. With our hearts pounding and nervous laughter erupting, we took off running, around the side of their house, headed for the woods and safety. As we were running the rest of the kids leaped into the air. As I was wondering why they had leaped, I suddenly became aware that I was falling.
The Mayhews had what is traditionally called an "open sewer" which consisted of a ditch about four feet deep by two feet wide. It ran from the house to a cess pool about 40 yards away. The sewer was full of green algae, water, and of course solid and liquid waste, exposed to the air. Although these types of sewers were and are illegal in many areas, this was rural Oregon in the seventies and many farmsteads still had them.
Being only 10 my chin was just above the "water" line. My hands clung wildly to the grass on the banks, keeping me from sinking further. The outdoor lights came on and a door opened. I was soon lifted from the ocher and stood on the Mayhews' cement patio. I took off my clothes, except for my underwear as they hosed me off with freezing water. Debby and friends returned to the house and she made a call to my mother.
I had to walk all the way back through the woods, barefoot, my reeking wet clothes in a garbage bag. My mother's mood was odd; she seemed disappointed that I had allowed myself to get into such a mess. I don't think there was a punishment for any of the night's activities. I supposed they felt I'd suffered enough of a trauma. To this day I can remember the grisly details I've left out of this post, and they are nausea inducing.
Okay, now that you're sufficiently grossed out, you can return to whatever you were doing previously.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
on Manners
Recently I saw a post with a list of 15 points of etiquette people should teach their children. The list contained gems like "knock on a door before opening it", "use a napkin", and "say thank you if someone does something for you". The author of the post exclaimed that these simple manners also extend to adults. I thought I'd add a few manners adults should definitely use:
1. When getting to the top or bottom of an escalator, do not stop in order to chat, or decide which way to go. Think about a direction prior to your landing. This goes for elevators too.
2. When you are pushing a stroller, especially a double or triple stroller, or a shopping cart, realize you may be blocking an entire aisle in the store and make sure to pull over.
3. When you are at a red light, don't creep out into the intersection. If you do creep out, then when the light turns green - GO, don't suddenly look down on the floor to find something. This seems to be a trait specific to Clevelanders.
4. Speaking of driving, Ohio law states if the power goes out, you are to treat the intersection like a four-way stop. That doesn't mean you just continue to drive through regardless of the other streets.
5. Don't eat with your mouth open, and don't smack your lips while eating. I can't count the number of people I see and hear doing this.
6. Don't play your music loudly with your windows open. This goes double for when you are in your car. You are not our personal D.J.
7. Don't post anonymous "troll" comments on newspaper or other websites which are hateful or designed to rouse emotions.
8. Don't take your babies to restaurants. I know you want to go out, but so does everyone else. You know your baby is going to cry at some point. If you absolutely feel you must take your baby to a restaurant, then if it cries immediately take it outside. The next time this happens I'm going to scream in your ear and see how you like it.
9. Don't talk on your cell phone while in a public restroom. There may be a slight chance the person at the other end doesn't know where you are, but it's just really disgusting. I will continuously flush the toilet, cough and make fart noises if I catch you doing it.
10. Don't use words like "synergistic", "paradigm", or phrases like "part of the conversation", or "human condition", they all make you sound like a douche, and you probably are.
11. If you meet someone for the first time you can ask what they do for a living, but don't ask where they went to college, that's just pretentious.
12. If you don't watch television, don't use the internet, aren't on Twitter or Facebook, don't look down on people who do; you're not that elite.
13. Never, ever talk about yourself in the third person; Bud doesn't like it. See how douchey that sounds?
14. If there's a joke you wouldn't tell in front of someone of color, of a different religion or sexuality, then it's not an appropriate joke. This isn't about being "politically correct", it's about you not being a bigot.
15. Back to driving: if you are at a red light, please use your turn signal to indicate which way you will be turning; don't wait until the light is green and then turn on the signal. If you are turning right, don't wait until the light turns before you finally decide to turn; unless there's a sign prohibiting it, just turn and get the hell out of my way!
1. When getting to the top or bottom of an escalator, do not stop in order to chat, or decide which way to go. Think about a direction prior to your landing. This goes for elevators too.
2. When you are pushing a stroller, especially a double or triple stroller, or a shopping cart, realize you may be blocking an entire aisle in the store and make sure to pull over.
3. When you are at a red light, don't creep out into the intersection. If you do creep out, then when the light turns green - GO, don't suddenly look down on the floor to find something. This seems to be a trait specific to Clevelanders.
4. Speaking of driving, Ohio law states if the power goes out, you are to treat the intersection like a four-way stop. That doesn't mean you just continue to drive through regardless of the other streets.
5. Don't eat with your mouth open, and don't smack your lips while eating. I can't count the number of people I see and hear doing this.
6. Don't play your music loudly with your windows open. This goes double for when you are in your car. You are not our personal D.J.
7. Don't post anonymous "troll" comments on newspaper or other websites which are hateful or designed to rouse emotions.
8. Don't take your babies to restaurants. I know you want to go out, but so does everyone else. You know your baby is going to cry at some point. If you absolutely feel you must take your baby to a restaurant, then if it cries immediately take it outside. The next time this happens I'm going to scream in your ear and see how you like it.
9. Don't talk on your cell phone while in a public restroom. There may be a slight chance the person at the other end doesn't know where you are, but it's just really disgusting. I will continuously flush the toilet, cough and make fart noises if I catch you doing it.
10. Don't use words like "synergistic", "paradigm", or phrases like "part of the conversation", or "human condition", they all make you sound like a douche, and you probably are.
11. If you meet someone for the first time you can ask what they do for a living, but don't ask where they went to college, that's just pretentious.
12. If you don't watch television, don't use the internet, aren't on Twitter or Facebook, don't look down on people who do; you're not that elite.
13. Never, ever talk about yourself in the third person; Bud doesn't like it. See how douchey that sounds?
14. If there's a joke you wouldn't tell in front of someone of color, of a different religion or sexuality, then it's not an appropriate joke. This isn't about being "politically correct", it's about you not being a bigot.
15. Back to driving: if you are at a red light, please use your turn signal to indicate which way you will be turning; don't wait until the light is green and then turn on the signal. If you are turning right, don't wait until the light turns before you finally decide to turn; unless there's a sign prohibiting it, just turn and get the hell out of my way!
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