Martin Luther King Jr. Day 2018

What true sacrifice, bravery, and honor, really looks like. Martin Luther King, Jr. yesterday, today, tomorrow, and forever.

The Circus Comes to Crazy Town

New Years Eve, 2017

"I never loved another person the way I loved myself."
~Mae West

Watching people is one of the few things that can hold my attention for more than 36 seconds. Sometimes I forget that I am not invisible and they can see me too. Eye-contact is not part of my people watching, totally ruins the show.

Having watched my favorite story, "The Peep Show", for years now, I've begun to notice the reruns. It's the same storyline, over-and-over, the human struggle for self-esteem. 

What worries people the most is how they are perceived by others, the benchmark for normal. What their friends think. What their co-workers think. What their neighbors think. This is the stuff that fills the bottom of our luggage.

Do you want to be normal or do you want to be happy? Imagine if you really knew your true essence, the steam that runs your soul. You would have so much time on your hands to think of other things. Is that a bad thing? 

Organized religion has no bedside manner and is therefore of no help. All this "if you do this, that will happen...it you don't do this..." etc., scaring the crap out of me. That's just so much negativity and it wears a person down.

So, I'm considering starting my own church and it's called "The Church of Your Self is Steam". All of my sermon's will consist of me looking at you and saying "You are good, you are beautiful, and you are worthy of happiness just the way you are". If you attend long enough, you will start to believe me, and then you won't need to attend at all. Religion should be like good therapy.

Try to remember: Your self is steam, with no boundaries. Steam can not be molded, and that's what makes you who you genuinely are. If you allow other's to dictate your worth, your steam will turn to water. Once your essence turns to water, someones gonna freeze you into shaped ice. That'll make you a frozen dog at someone else's salvation, and nobody wants that. 

So there you have it.

The Holiday Bridge

Sometimes, I run away to the circus. (No real animals were injured in the cropping off of this pony’s lower torso, though it was indeed a sacrifice to the bigger picture.) Sometimes, I run away to the circus for years at a time. I run away because I lose the magic dust that makes me a writer, and the circus is the only place I know where to find it.

It’s time to write. I need to write, mostly about bullshit, and I need you to read. Sorta like the tree falling in the woods, and waiting to become paper to make a noise. Thank you for being the  ink on the paper all these years.

Mostly, remember, the holiday season, is but a bridge to the new year, and I’m always glad to see a new year. On that, I wish you all a smooth and beautiful slide to 2018. I will see you on the the other side.

So there you have it.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Someday, while moving forward
You will look back, reluctantly
At the things you did
Or didn't do
To put it all behind you
As quickly as you could
Congratulating yourself for
The ability to move on
Unfortunately, having never noticed
the toilet paper still stuck and
Dragging from the bottom of
Your 500 dollar shoes

Bad Santa

Tis the season to be jolly

Bloated out and overflowing

Fat in debt by gosh by golly

It's not your spirit that be glowing

But the sweat regret of your folly

Gone the denial pseudo playa knowing

Wasn't no love from Molly, Holly, or Polly

The Hungry Princess and Her Frog

Before you fry his little legs
And douse them with some butter
Be a mensch and kiss that frog
To make sure he's not your lover

Mr. Jonz and the Boy in the Closet

Mr. Jonz was my stupidvisor at my current job for a year or two. He fancied himself, and still does I'm sure, an intellectual who was way smarter than anyone else. Now, I'm not talking about your average arrogance, this guy actually had disdain for anyone whom he viewed as less than him, and that pretty much was everyone. Mr. Jonz was a snob and a hater.

How to describe Mr. Jonz? He was very tall and thin, pale, and had fuzzy blond hair. He looked like a Q-tip. If you closed your eyes when he spoke, you would think Micheal Jackson was in the room. Mr. Jonz and Mr. Jackson also had something else in common, they both lusted for a certain type.

That brings us to why Mr. Jonz became obsessed with the demise of my career in the first place. I am the chapter president of the union that represents all of the technical workers at our company. We had recently negotiated a new program for programmer trainees. Each candidate took a test called the International Programmers Aptitude Test, and the number one scorer became the new trainee.

Mr. Jonz insisted that his favorite boy win, and fully expected me to make that happen, even though this person had finished third. His name was Jay, and he looked like a twelve year old boy, not to mention that he had been hired as a woman named Janice, went back to being a man named James, and finally settled on the name Jay so he could go back and forth. Nobody really held this against him, except for maybe the network administrator who had to change his network credentials with every gender swing.

Mr. Jonz LOVED Jay, and considered himself to be both his mentor and champion. It was VERY important to Mr. Jonz that Jay see how truly important and powerful he was. I also think it was the old "I'll make him better than he was and he'll love me forever" approach to dating. He made it very clear to me that it was up to me to make sure Jay got the job.

Now, what kind of union president would I be if I crumbled to the demands of a middle manager with a bloated sense of self worth? Being the good gurl that I am, we gave the job to the number one scorer on the IPAT, which turned out to be a woman who had been rotting as a dispatcher down in security. She is brilliant, and has gone on to make more money out in the world than any of us, and deserves every penny.

One day, I had to go into Mr. Jonz's office to ask a question. I tend to be a bit on the psychic side, and for no reason absolutely knew that he literally had someone in his closet and that person was Jay. After not receiving the answer to my question, which was the norm with Mr. Jonz, I went back to my office and said to two of my co-workers "I think Mr. Jonz has Jay in his closet" to which they laughed thinking it was a metaphor. "No, seriously, I think Mr. Jonz has Jay in his closet" and I could tell that they thought I was nuts.

Several minutes later, I was summoned into Mr. Jonz's office. He said "You knew Jay was in my closet, didn't you?", to which I replied "pretty much".

From that day forward, Mr. Jonz did every thing he could to ruin me. He was already enraged that Jay wasn't given the programmer trainee position, and now this. I would come in in the morning, and my cubicle would be smaller than the night before, files would mysteriously disappear from my computer, projects were taken away from me, and I was constantly dragged into disciplinary for just looking at him the wrong way.

Being underestimated has always been one of my best advantages. While he harassed me day after day, my best friend Gail, and I, quietly built our own case against him. Gail and I had already agreed that we would never use it unless we were absolutely forced to.

Finally, it was Mr. Jonz's big day. He had me where he wanted me, down in Human Resources, about to be fired. He had me in check because he knew I wasn't smart enough to play chess with him.

So, there's Gail and me on one side of the table, and Mr. Jonz and the HR director on the other. In the middle of the meeting, the HR director was called to the company president's office. While we sat there waiting for him to return, another HR employee came in, sat down, and asked how we were all doing. After Mr. Jonz, who had been sitting there smugly in control because he was so much smarter than the rest of us, said he was doing "excellent" the HR guy looked at me and asked how I was, and I said the following:

"Well, Mr. Jonz has me here because he thinks he's going to fire me, but what he doesn't know, is that I'm going to beat him to the punch."

Mr. Jonz kinda snorted at this because he knew this would never happen. When the HR director returned, we continued with our disciplinary hearing, with Mr. Jonz in the drivers seat. Don't forget, he was smarter than everyone else and didn't need to concern himself with the likes of me. After listening to Mr. Jonz litany of offenses, the meeting was scheduled to continue the next day.

What he failed to realize is that I am a street fighter. I do not need to intimidate, strut, or match you blow for blow. I will even keep your secrets. But if you come after me, and threaten the livelihood that puts the food into my children's mouths and the roof over their heads, I will take you out. When I finally bite, I bite to kill, and you may never see it coming.

The postponed meeting never continued. Mr. Jonz was escorted by security off the premises the very next day. Gail and I had presented our case before meeting with Mr. Jonz. When one of his minions asked what was going on, all he could mumble was that he "was in a state of shock".

Mr. Jonz, should you ever read this, I have but one thing to say to you. CHECKMATE you dumbass.

Ass Ponys, Sound, TEDX, and a "Paula" Shoutout from RWC in Closing

Ass Ponys

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

 

Ass Ponys
Origin	Cincinnati, Ohio, USA
Genres	Alternative country, Country rock
Years active	1988–2005
Labels	A&M Checkered Past Okra Safe House Shake It
Members	Chuck Cleaver Randy Cheek Dave Morrison John Erhardt
Past members	Bill Alletzhauser Dan Kleingers

Ass Ponys was an indie rock band based in Cincinnati, Ohio. The band combines rock and country into an off-kilter blend of Americana music. They have gone on national tours with bands such as Pavement, Throwing Muses, and Possum Dixon. Among other periodicals, they have been featured in Rolling Stone Magazine, CMJ, and The Cincinnati Post.
The Ass Ponys went on hiatus in 2005, after releasing the compilation album The Okra Years^[1] - 4 years after their last original material was published in Lohio. More importantly, it appears that core band members are focused on new projects, so new Ass Ponys output seems unlikely any time soon^{[citation needed]}. Vocalist Chuck Cleaver is focusing his attention on a new band, Wussy. Bill Alletzhauser currently fronts the band The Hiders.^[2] Randy Cheek plays with The Libertines US, The Fairmount Girls and The Ready Stance.

Discography

Albums

• 1990 - Mr. Superlove (Okra Records)
• 1993 - Grim (Safe House)
• 1994 - Electric Rock Music (A&M)
• 1996 - The Known Universe (A&M)
• 2000 - Some Stupid with a Flare Gun (Checkered Past)
• 2001 - Lohio (Checkered Past)
• 2006 - The Okra Years (Shake It)

 

Fine, I'll Do It Myself

Boehner crying, not a good look

Allowing our government to be led, yes led, by people in a state of total ego melt down (perhaps it's the merlot) is irresponsible on all of our parts.   Why?  Because, as my second grade teacher once said to me,  we are L-A-Z-Y.  

In all my liberal leaning, easy chair sitting, get the popcorn popping, never-ever commited to anything, thinking and living locally years, I've never worked on a political campaign of any kind.

(Unless you count the time Trisha Delisha ran for the Cincinnati Public School Board while still in high school.) I vote but I don't tote.

This year, I will volunteer to work on a political campaign. The winner of this auspicious moment of selflessness will be whoever runs against Kasich in the next gubernatorial race in Ohio.

No, I do not know when that is, which means it's not for a while. I avoid the bigger picture in an effort to maintain what ever amount of ignorance I still have left. Like my lova boy Randy Sweet always says, "bliss is wasted on the ignorant."

So there you have it and you didn't even ask.

Three Days

When once he demanded
she go away
for three days long
with no pay
tomorrow, hence,
she does return
to face her demons
who wish her ill
Should you see her
up on the hill
wish her grace, and hope,
and most of all, good will

The Soundtrack of Life

A Week in Rhymn

Saturday, Saturday, to thee I sing
Oh how I love you, you crazy thing
Elusive and manic, so luscious you be
I want to commit you, and not let you leave

Friday, Friday, half work half cream
A segue from toil to living the dream
Mindful of time, and in love with my pillow
I try not to squander my two day furlough

Thursday, Thursday, so sublime
A three day weekend would be divine
The boys of summer are both out of school
One precious vacation day is left in my pool
But now that I know the truth, and it's all very Zen
I know for sure how my time I should spend
So I'm taking off Friday, before they are men
avoiding the question: where the hell have you been?

Wednesday, Wednesday, now I see the light
my hopes are big, my future bright
The weekend is coming, it's almost in sight
I've conquered the hump, and own Wednesday night

Tuesday, Tuesday, so damn generic
like trying to distinguish a mink from a ferret
No highs, no lows, no four leaf clovers
may as well coma-tize till Tuesday is over

Sunday, Sunday, full of grace
days of heaven, slow of pace
it's all been good, it's all been great
to evening's hues, her magic dissipates
vacating the scene with so much haste
that the winds of Monday chap my face

Martin Luther King Day, 2013

Today, in the United States, we inaugurated Barrack Hussien Obama for the second time.

"Sonya has a bald spot"

YOU HAVE TO WATCH THIS VIDEO.  The artists name is Sonya Renee, and if you haven't heard of her, allow me to facilitate.  She is a writer, poet, actress, and singer.  This is one of her performance pieces.

Having said that, all the white people in the audience annoyed me.  It's like at professional sports events, where, shall we say,  the players don't look anything like the audience.  It always reminds me of gladiators in colosseums in some far flung era gone by, or not.

Then, I thought, "but art is different".  It's important that people catch a glimpse, no matter how brief, of what it really means to not be a white male in America.  It's lately become clear to me how the plight of women crosses over all racial barriers.  Anyway,  I sincerely admire those white guys in the audience.  Bet their wives made them go.

At the same time, it reminded me of my own mother, and how frustrated she used to get with my long hair.  Then along came "The Pixie" cut, and that pretty much took care of that.

 I can't impress on you enough what a magnificent performance this is.  Thanks to Snap Judgement who always has the best stuff.

So there you have it.

RWC and Wildfire

Once upon a time a group of musicians while enroute to Chicago sparked up a big old hog leg of what passed for weed back then. Wildfire came on the radio. Van full of smoke and grown men signing wildfire at the top of their lungs we didn't see the highway patrolman who apparently had been chasing a few miles.pulling over we calmly rolled down the windows, smoke billowing out and as the police approached to ask for I.D. His first words were sir can you please turn that shit down. We had forgotten to turn down wildfire. It got worse quickly.

Dear Paula, ...A message from the Universe

The Top 10 things about time and space, Paula, that most people seem to forget... 10. You chose to be here and you knew what you were doing. 9. There are no "tests" and you're not being judged. 8. Everyone's doing their best, with what they know. 7. You already have whatever you're looking for. 6. You are of the Divine, pure God, and so is everyone else. 5. Religion needs spirituality; spirituality does not need religion. 4. You're naturally inclined to succeed - at everything you do. 3. You happen to life, life does not happen to you. 2. Order, healing, and love belie every moment of chaos, pain, and fear. 1. Following your heart is the best way to help others. The truth shall set you free,     The Universe

Elections Reflections

Yesterday,  Mitt Romney and Kid Rock (what the fuck is up with that?) rallying 20 minutes north up I-75, in West Chester, Ohio.

At the same time, the same day,  20 minutes south down I-75,  Barack Obama and Stevie Wonder, (thereby winning the cooler than contest) are wooing voters in downtown Cincinnati.  

Today, I hear tell of Laurence Fishburne sightings down at election headquarters getting out the vote.  It's as if Horton has heard the Who's yelling from Ohio.

It's two days before the presidential elections and I am reporting to you from beautiful Cincinnati, Ohio, in what turns out to be "ground zero" in this years political race.  Two of our counties, Hamilton and Butler, have been identified as the swing areas that could decide who wins the election of 2012.

As well it should be.

Hamilton County and Butler County are separated by just 10 miles down the I-75 corridor.  Cincinnati is located in Hamilton County, but the northern suburbs are located in Butler County, known as Mason/West Chester, Ohio.  It is absolutely striking how two places, so close to each other in miles, could be so different in political mind sets.

When the 1960's finally rolled around to Southern Ohio, sometime late in the 1970's, Cincinnati residents fled north from the city as it became more progressive (a big word for any part of Ohio), along with the urban blight that accompanied the changing economy of that decade.

Cincinnati has always been a contrast of black and white, always polarized, and frankly, somewhat confused by the recent influx of other ethnicities.  Our lines had always been very clear, up until the last few decades or so.

You have to understand that Cincinnati, while the gateway to the south, is also, usually, a decade behind the rest of the world.  Just ask Mark Twain. Up until the last 20 years, the regions idea of ethnic food was 16,000 Chinese restaurants.  Sushi didn't arrive until the mid-eighties.

If Cincinnati is ten years behind, that would make its northern sibling, Mason/West Chester, at least 20 years behind. It remains solidly republican, conservative, and homogenous, which is my nice way of saying very, very white.

These are the children of the generation that jumped up the social latter during the great manufacturing years, when Ohio ruled the world in steel production and automotive superiority.  This is where the Speaker of the House, John Boehner, a crazy mix of conservative rebellion and alcoholic melt down, comes to us from.

Meanwhile, Barack Obama chose to save the auto industry, thus saving the bread and butter of thousands and thousands of Ohio workers.  At the same time, conservative voters tend to have short memories, except when thinking fondly of the 1950's, and will forever yearn to bring the sensibilities and social structures of those day back.  Down south, in the Queen City, we seem to have acknowledged, finally, that times move on, and the only constant in life is change.

Suddenly, we are like the ugly girl that came back from summer vacation transformed and finds herself to be the belle of the ball.  Never have I been courted so intimately for my vote.  Ohio is the perfect breeding ground for indecision, and that makes us hot.

For me, November 6th, election day in the United States, can't get here quick enough.  I'll check back in with you later.

My Favorite Uncle Bill

By my favorite Aunt Binnie: 
Everybody loved William. He was a man of great loving kindness, integrity, and generosity of heart. His life was dedicated to being a loving support for all those he encountered, not only in his family but every human being. He was the most successful man any of us ever knew. A light has gone out for us all. 
 

William K. Williams was born in Childress, Texas on July 30, 1925, and came to live with his mother’s family in Hypoluxo, Florida, in 1930. He worked charter boats out of the Boynton inlet, and at seventeen was in Germany, liberating prisoners from concentration camps, mines and chicken coops. His feet were frozen in the snow, which affected the rest of his life. He came back determined to contribute to a world where such things could never happen again. 

He earned a Bachelor’s degree from Drew Theological Seminary, and a Master’s from the University of Miami, and became a Methodist minister. He was the first head of the Florida Council on Human Relations under Leroy Collins, who called him in as a mediator when there were lynchings and cross-burnings in Florida towns, and he circuit-rode the state building an organization that would bring better understanding between the races.

He later became Asst. Director of the Illinois Council on Human Relations, headquartered in Chicago and being sent in to exploding communities from Chicago to Cairo, training State Police in humane riot control, mediating in race relations and enforcing human rights laws. The Governor of Illinois sent him to investigate complaints by students against the University of Illinois, and the President of the University of Illinois asked him to come on his staff to implement the suggestions he made. Through the ‘60s he was the University’s expert on race relations and student activism, responsible for the Urbana campus, the Chicago Circle, and the Medical School campus.

When he and his wife decided to move back to Florida to build a boat and he tried to resign, Black student protestors submitted a demand to the University that “William K. Williams be retained in a high executive capacity to deal primarily with Black people.” The faculty senate also voted to ask him to stay. Mr. and Mrs. Williams decided to stay and build the boat there on a Midwest farm, and the University created the office of Ombudsman for him. 

Five years later, with a navigable hull completed and quieter campuses, Mr. and Mrs. Williams and their children went down the Illinois and Mississippi Rivers to the Gulf, and eventually built a coastal trading business around the west coast of Florida and the Bahama out islands, taking goods to families with a lot of children and no money, trading for handmade and natural goods that the Williams sold at docks around the Florida coast, including Bradenton. They were shipwrecked and wiped out in 1984, and after a year back in the Keys to start over they came and settled in Bradenton.

Middle Managers, The Real Proletariots

When I was thirteen, Tam Tam and I got our first official jobs at the Baskin and Robbins in our neighborhood. It wasn't my first job, that would be the babysitting and snow shoveling I had been doing since I was nine. Looking back on it, who the hell hires a nine year old to babysit anyway? It must have been a very innocent time, or, more likely, nine year olds were the only people willing to work for fifty cents an hour.

Thirty years later, with no break in employment, just changes in employers, I consider myself an authority on bosses and suck ups. Some of my best stories involve them. If anyone ever asks you to become a middle manager, you should consider it an insult. If you don't, well, then you're perfect for the job.

The middle manager is a special breed, and the worst of all bosses. They are both boss and suck up, the latter being a prerequisite for the former. Companies love to take fairly dim witted personalities and make them into middle managers because of their never ending ability to say "yes" to everything. Middle managers have no idea that this is what's happening, but don't try to tell them because they'll make you their new project.

The average middle manager never manages work, only people. They consider breaking spirits and working out their baggage from childhood as part of the job. If they could manage work, they wouldn't be middle, they would be top, which most middle managers never become. When a suck up accidentally makes it to the upper echelon of management, it is generally a disaster. I'm pretty sure this is why most managers are "at will" employee's. Since most of them never make it to the top, they are the most bitter of bosses.....and dammit, you're all gonna pay!

As soon as a new middle manager says "we need to be good soldiers" you know it can only go downhill from there. This translates into "jump off this roof for me because I told you to", never mind the fact that the fall will kill you. They fixate on one employee after the other because it's the only way they can look productive because they really don't know how to do anything else. Middle managers are the true proletariats in our society. Just tell them that they're smarter than everyone else and give them an office where they can play some nice music and they're good to go.

Some suck ups never become middle managers. These are the ones that enable middle managers to feel good about how important they are, and are rewarded with salaries that far outreach their usefulness. The suck ups ruin others by gossip and innuendo, thereby providing the middle manager with a steady stream of scape goats. This allows the middle manager an ally in their stupidity. Non manager suck ups tend to be just smart enough to be dangerous to anyone the works closely with them.

Don't get me wrong, I have met brilliant managers, and I can always tell who they are because they don't fit into this description. But these are few and far between and never stick around long. Companies generally recognize these individuals and promote them out of middle management quickly. If you have been a middle manager for three years or more, it's probably all you'll ever be. The Peter Principle, which says that some people get promoted based on their inertia as opposed to their usefulness, was created in regard to middle managers.

I am creating an entire new label category for bosses and suck ups, because I've known so many of them. Most of them don't like me anymore than I like them, and when they delude themselves into believing that they're the ones that will finally "tame the shrew", it always results in great stories and never ending hilarity.

Feel free to leave comments about your favorite idiot bosses and suck ups, of which I'm sure you've known many. If nothing else, you'll know you're not alone.