The Mallet of Loving Correction Part 19

14.

2008.

One of the more amusing comments about my recent "Baby Mama" rant (or at least amusing to me, anyway), came from over on Daily Kos, when someone there wondered whether if I was on their side, politically speaking. Because, I guess, if I'm not, then it's not okay to enjoy the snark for its own sake. Or whatever.

Well, I don't want my political proclivities to be in doubt, so let me be absolutely crystal clear where I stand: I support the right of same-s.e.x married couples to carry concealed weapons.

I hope this explains everything.

Thank you for reading.

The Thing About "Rock Stars"

Sep

5.

2008.

For all the Republicans who are exulting that there's now a "rock star" on the GOP ticket (and all the Democrats who are freaking out about it), there is one minor detail that's worth considering in the days and months ahead. And that is that the "rock star" on the Democratic ticket is actually the person who is running for president, while the "rock star" on the GOP ticket...isn't. At the top of the GOP ticket is a 72-year-old man who just gave a mediocre speech that served primarily as an attempt to suggest that a fellow who's spent two and half decades in Was.h.i.+ngton and voted with the extremely unpopular current president 90% of the time somehow represents change. That's the guy going up against the Democratic rock star.

And to the surprise of absolutely no one, the Democratic rock star knows this perfectly well. This is why yesterday when reporters tried to get Obama to react to Palin's attacks on him, his response was to say, more or less, "whatever," and to note his presidential opposition was McCain, not Palin. This is also why outside of the hothouse atmosphere of a political convention, Palin's sniping at Obama is likely not to hit the radar screens, because when all is said and done, she's the VP candidate, and the press is covering a presidential election, not a vice-presidential one.

Obama's already signaled he's not going to bother with her; she'll be shopped out to Biden-or even better, Hillary Clinton, who I would expect is privately fuming that the McCain and the GOP think so little of her positions and personality that they expect her supporters to be swayed by someone who holds ant.i.thetical political positions, simply because that person's got fallopian tubes. If the GOP wanted to keep the Clintons on the sidelines this election, this was not the way to do it.

Beyond this we'll see what value being a "rock star" really brings to the table, which I suspect is rather less than what people suppose. The GOPers ecstatic over their new star might remember that a) Obama's rock star status hasn't kept this election from being reasonably close so far, and b) that Palin's "rock star" status is not yet two days old, based on a speech written for a generic GOP VP candidate with some personal touches bolted on. Two and a half days ago people were wondering if she would have left the ticket by today. It's fair to say Palin's been up and been down. And starting today she and Joe Biden begin their descent into the shadowy netherworld of VP candidates on the campaign trail, to be largely ignored save for the occasional snipe or screw-up. It's nice to be a "rock star" politician, but let's just say I'm not 100% convinced the "rock star" s.h.i.+ne is all that it's cracked up to be, especially when at the end of the day you're the political equivalent of the opening act.

And at the end of the proverbial day, this election is the guys who are the headliners: about McCain and Obama, and their policies and plans, or lack thereof. One of these guys is a rock star, and the other isn't-and to be honest, I hope that doesn't matter, either. What should matter, and what I hope will matter, is the substance of the two candidates. Substance is not what people come to "rock stars" for. But it should be what we look for in a president.

Things I Don't Have to Think About Today Oct

18.

2010.

Today I don't have to think about those who hear "terrorist" when I speak my faith.

Today I don't have to think about men who don't believe no means no.

Today I don't have to think about how the world is made for people who move differently than I do.

Today I don't have to think about whether I'm married, depending on what state I'm in.

Today I don't have to think about how I'm going to hail a cab past midnight.

Today I don't have to think about whether store security is tailing me.

Today I don't have to think about the look on the face of the person about to sit next to me on a plane.

Today I don't have to think about eyes going to my chest first.

Today I don't have to think about what people might think if they knew the medicines I took.

Today I don't have to think about getting kicked out of a mall when I kiss my beloved h.e.l.lo.

Today I don't have to think about if it's safe to hold my beloved's hand.

Today I don't have to think about whether I'm being pulled over for anything other than speeding.

Today I don't have to think about being cla.s.sified as one of "those people."

Today I don't have to think about making less than someone else for the same job at the same place.

Today I don't have to think about the people who stare, or the people who pretend I don't exist.

Today I don't have to think about managing pain that never goes away.

Today I don't have to think about whether a stranger's opinion of me would change if I showed them a picture of who I love.

Today I don't have to think about the chance a store salesman will ignore me to help someone else.

Today I don't have to think about the people who'd consider torching my house of prayer a patriotic act.

Today I don't have to think about a pharmacist telling me his conscience keeps him from filling my prescription.

Today I don't have to think about being asked if I'm bleeding when I'm just having a bad day.

Today I don't have to think about whether the one drug that lets me live my life will be taken off the market.

Today I don't have to think about the odds of getting jumped at the bar I like to go to.

Today I don't have to think about "vote fraud" theater showing up at my poll station.

Today I don't have to think about turning on the news to see people planning to burn my holy book.

Today I don't have to think about others demanding I apologize for hateful people who have nothing to do with me.

Today I don't have to think about my child being seen as a detriment to my career.

Today I don't have to think about the irony of people thinking I'm lucky because I can park close to the door.

Today I don't have to think about memories of being bullied in high school.

Today I don't have to think about being told to relax, it was just a joke.

Today I don't have to think about whether someone thinks I'm in this country illegally.

Today I don't have to think about those who believe that freedom of religion ends with mine.

Today I don't have to think about how a half-starved 23-year-old being a cultural ideal affects my life.

Today I don't have to think about how much my life is circ.u.mscribed by my body.

Today I don't have to think about people wanting me cured of loving who I love.

Today I don't have to think about those who view me an unfit parent because of who I love.

Today I don't have to think about being told my kind don't a.s.similate.

Today I don't have to think about people blind to the intolerance of their belief lecturing me about my own.

Today I don't have to think about my body as a political football.

Today I don't have to think about how much my own needs wear on those I love.

Today I don't have to think about explaining to others "what happened to me."

Today I don't have to think about politicians saying bigoted things about me to win votes.

Today I don't have to think about those worried that one day people like me will be the majority.

Today I don't have to think about someone using the name of my religion as a slur.

Today I don't have to think about so many of the words for me controlling my own life being negatives.

Today I don't have to think about still not being equal.

Today I don't have to think about what it takes to keep going.

Today I don't have to think about how much I still have to hide.

Today I don't have to think about how much prejudice keeps hold.

Today I don't have to think about how I'm meant to be grateful that people tolerate my kind.

Today I don't have to think about all the things I don't have to think about.

But today I will.

Things I Don't Miss Jan

15.

2010.

Apropos of nothing (no, really), here are some things from life which no longer really exist and which I am glad do not.

1. Stupidly expensive long-distance charges. After I left college, I tried to keep in touch with all my friends by phone, and it added up because depending where they were, calling pals could cost up to 40 cents a minute. When my sister briefly lived with me when I was in Fresno, between the two of us we could generate $600 phone bills on a monthly basis, at a time when I was paying $400 a month for an apartment. Yes! I was occasionally paying more for my phone bill than I was for having a place to eat and sleep. Naturally, this was madness.

These days, my long distance phone bill is a flat fee of something like $25; I literally can't think of the last time I had to think about how long I could afford to talk to someone far away on the phone. The phone companies appear to have s.h.i.+fted their Egregious Profit Center from long distance to text messaging, which, as I am not one of Those d.a.m.n Kids and rarely text message (and have a $5 add-on to my cell phone account which covers the first 250 texts a month, which is more than I use), suits me just fine.

The real irony here is that I'm rather more likely to e-mail or IM friends than phone them these days, so likely my phone bill would be lower now than back in '91 no matter what. But it's the principle of the thing.

2. c.r.a.ppy old cars. Which cars qualify as c.r.a.ppy old cars? In my opinion, pretty much all of them. Pre-catalytic converter cars were shoddily-constructed, lead-spewing deathtraps, the first generation of cars running on unleaded were even more shoddily-constructed 70s defeat-mobiles, the 80s were the golden age of Detroit Doesn't Give a s.h.i.+t, and so on. You have to get to about 1997 before there's a car I would willingly get into these days. As opposed to today, when even the cheap boxy cars meant for first-time buyers have decent mileage, will protect you if you're hit by a semi, and have more gizmos and better living conditions than my first couple of apartments.

Yes, I know. Car lovers scandalized. Well, look. First, go watch that video on YouTube of a 50s-era Chevrolet colliding into a late era car from the same maker. Pay special attention to just how violently the crash test dummy is smeared all over the 50s interior. Which I think makes the point about "deathtraps" I was mentioning earlier.

Second, every time I go back to LA, you know what always surprises me? The mountains. Because when I was kid growing up in LA, you couldn't see them. I lived at the foothills of the d.a.m.ned mountains and I still couldn't see them most of the time. Whereas these days first stage smog alerts in LA are a relative rarity, not even bringing into the discussion second stage alerts (in which you could see the air directly in front of you) and third stage alerts (in which you could chew it). And this was in the 70s and 80s, which were substantially better than the 50s and 60s. No, I don't miss c.r.a.ppy old cars one bit.

3. Physical media for music. Audiophiles like to w.a.n.k on about the warmth of vinyl, and you know, maybe if you take your vinyl and put it into special static free sleeves and then store those sleeves in a purpose-built room filled with inert gases, to be retrieved only when you play that vinyl on your $10,000 turntable which could play a record without skipping through a 7.5 earthquake, ported through your vacuum tube amplifier that sucks down more energy than Philadelphia at night, maybe it is warm. Good for you and your warm vinyl.

What I remember about my vinyl was a) it warped, b) it skipped, c) it wore out, d) any sonic benefits of the medium were compromised by my basic turntable and all the dust the d.a.m.n LPs acc.u.mulated. Ca.s.sette tapes wore out even more quickly, their sonic reproduction was even worse, and they would get randomly eaten by your Walkman as a sacrifice to the music G.o.ds, and it was always your beloved music, not that Poison ca.s.sette your great aunt got you because she knows as much about your musical tastes as she knows anything else about you. I would have gladly sacrificed Look What the Cat Dragged In to the music G.o.ds, in their mercy. But it didn't work that way. It never works that way.

Let us not even speak of 8-tracks.

CDs were the best possible physical music medium, for all the c.r.a.p they get from audiophiles, but even CDs pale against the awesomeness that is the intangible digital music file, stored in a tiny, pretty little handheld computer that also plays video and games and lets me read my e-mail. I have three decades of curated personal music, enough to play straight for week without interruption or repet.i.tion, with me wherever I go. And while the encoding rate I used to rip "Don't Stop Believin'" might not give me the crystal clarity I could get listening to it on vinyl, on a $10k turntable and through a McIntosh amp, I'll say this: It sounds a h.e.l.l of a lot better than when I was 12, listening to it on ca.s.sette through a mono tape player, or through the transistor radio alarm clock by my bed. Which is to say from a practical point of view it's just groovy, thanks.

4. Smoking allowed everywhere. You know what? It did suck to have smokers at the table next to you at a restaurant. It did suck to have a movie theater haze up. It did suck to be walking in the mall and have some wildly gesticulating smoker randomly and accidentally jam the lit end of his cancer stick into your face. It did suck to be trapped in a tube hurling through the sky at 32,000 feet, sucking down recycled air for six hours that had cigarette smoke in it. It did suck to have everything everywhere smell vaguely of burnt ash and nicotine addiction.

Now, I'd note that it also sucks to be a smoker today, as they are exiled to the outdoors in every sort of weather, to huddle together for warmth and companions.h.i.+p in their devotion to the demon weed. They have my sympathy. But given the choice between telling them to go outside and having to suck down their smoke whether I want it or not, I'm good with the current state of affairs.

5. Pull tabs on drink cans. One less bit of ubiquitous trash to be annoyed with. To the dude who invented the stay tab: Bless you, sir.

Today's Cane Shaking On the Lawn: Apps Jul