So Drumpf has COVID19. The most surprising thing about this is how long it took for him to get it. It was never a question of IF he was going to get it, it was a question of WHEN. He’s been ignoring scientists and doctors about taking precautions against the virus (masks, social distancing) for MONTHS, thereby causing the additional deaths of untold thousands of Americans that SHOULD be alive today had he done the right thing all along. It’s amazing that with all the contacts he’s had that more people in and around the White House haven’t been infected until now.
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The cafeteria at my work made chili for lunch one day this week, probably because the temperature at night right now is dipping down into the 40’s (!), and with the cooler weather the comfort food arrives. I was strongly tempted to try the café’s chili but I prefer my own, and I’m making some as I write. But thinking of comfort food made me think of another: soup. Chili is a version of soup, but I was thinking more along the lines of the less-chunky versions, specifically tomato soup.
For whatever reason, I never had tomato soup as a kid. When we did have soup it was invariably chicken noodle, and almost always was Campbell’s condensed soup in a can. We had a lot of canned goods in our household, it was cheaper and lasted way longer. My aversion to vegetables stems from this but that’s a whole different story. To get back on track – I don’t recall *ever* eating tomato soup growing up. I don’t know why, I do remember seeing it in the cupboard, but the classic tomato-soup-and-grilled-cheese combo I just never had. That may say more about my upbringing than I’d like to admit but whatever, it just never happened. Probably timing or something. Anyway, fast forward many years and we find your humble narrator working for a social services non-profit firm. They would hold fundraisers a few times a year, usually at a location where the upper classes hung out, such as an exclusive country club or fancy hotel & restaurant. As I was part of the staff I was on hand to make sure everything went smoothly, but it also meant I got to partake of some seriously delicious food. That’s a polite term for “way too expensive for me to afford on my own.” One year the “casino night” festivities were preceded by a several-course meal, the first of which was a tomato bisque. Now, at the time, I didn’t know what “bisque” meant (it had been a few years since my last French class) but I didn’t want to appear an uneducated barbarian by actually asking anyone, so I just waited for it to be served so I could see what it was. My initial reaction: Oh! A soup! That’s when I recalled never having eaten tomato soup, but being in my try-anything-once 20’s, I naturally had to give this one at least a couple of spoonfuls. Turns out I nearly ended up licking the bowl! It was AMAZING; I could hardly believe any kind of soup could be that good. Rich, flavorful, with a depth of deliciousness that I *still* remember to this day! The rest of the meal (and night) is kind of a blur, I was working after all, but I’ve never forgotten that tomato bisque. Fast forward a few more years to a winter eve when I was in the mood for some comfort food, and the grocery store had a sale on soup, so I included a can of tomato in my basket with my chicken-n-rice and steak-n-potato. I know….I know exactly what you’re thinking…..you’re going to try to recreate a gourmet chef’s tomato bisque with a canned soup?!?! Yeah, well….I obviously wasn’t thinking I’d be able to recreate it, but I at least wanted to give a poor person’s version a try. Yeah. That didn’t go well. After only a few spoonfuls and copious amounts of salt and pepper, it got tossed and I’ve never attempted it again. A homemade version might fare better, but I’ve never been much of a dinner chef. Baker of sweets, sure! Three course meals? Forget it. I’ve gotten really good at making single-course meals, like macaroni and cheese, or a bowl of chili. Which reminds me…it’s dinner time. AKA The Annual Gripe I hate receiving gifts. I really do. Every fucking year I go through this. I absolutely dread every birthday, every Christmas. Every. Single. Year. I hate getting gifts because most of them are, to put it bluntly, not worth the paper they’re wrapped in. Why is this? Am I such a hard person to buy for? No, actually. I’m a very practical person; gifts that I can use are the best, such as: GIFT CARDS. I am the easiest person in the world to buy for. Get me a gift card and I’m as happy as a clam! Provided that it’s not for a store I never go to. For example: I once got a gift card to Starbucks; I hate coffee. I don’t even like the smell. I used to live downwind from a coffee roaster, it was disgusting! Just walking into a Starbucks now is likely to make me gag. That was a bad gift. Number One on my Xmas Wish List this year: Amazon Gift Cards. Number Two on my Xmas Wish List: See number one. That’s IT! That’s ALL I asked for. Did ANYBODY pay attention to this? NO. Now, some people think gift cards are bad gifts to begin with because they’re “impersonal,” they “don’t speak to the uniqueness of the individual,” or “the giver was lazy,” etc. These are most likely the same people who don’t spend the time and effort to find truly personal, unique items. Unfortunately, most people just aren’t very good at this, for a variety of reasons. But the really bad ones glom onto one part of your life and think that speaks for the rest of it. What you liked when you were 13 does not automatically translate to your 40s. For example: I have a cat. I love cats, always have. When I was a kid I got a stuffed Pink Panther toy. Do I collect cat-themed items? NO. However, to this day, I routinely get cat-themed gifts, like t-shirts or ceramic figurines. What am I supposed to do with these? Seriously! I have more t-shirts than I need, I will never wear them all, they just sit in a drawer! And why would I want a fake cat that sits on the shelf and gathers dust when I have a real one I can cuddle with? These are also bad gifts. In fact, these are the truly impersonal gifts. They show an obvious lack of imagination, sincerity, and a serious lack of effort. I know what you might be thinking; it’s the thought that counts. I should be grateful they wanted to give me anything. Well, true enough. But let me ask you: If it is the thought that counts, then why was so little thought put into it? Just because this individual likes X does not mean they will also like Y. That is no thought, that is no effort; that is an assumption. Here’s the kicker: if you want to give a good gift, you CANNOT make assumptions. If they’re family or a good friend, you should know by now what they’d like. If you don’t know them that well, or really just have no clue, then go practical! Give them something they can use! It shows you care enough to give them a gift, but not something completely irrelevant. This is where gift cards come in. If you don’t like the generic Visa/MasterCard/American Express, then get a card for a store that you KNOW they will visit. Wawa, Rite Aid, grocery stores! Do they have a car? Then get a gift card to literally ANY major gas station. These are particularly good gifts for coworkers and people you only see a few times a year. They’re also perfect for people you DO know that are basically begging for simple, practical gifts. So what happens to those bad gifts I mentioned? Normally, it’s one of two things. They get re-gifted, or donated to a thrift store. On rare occasions they might get sold online; a Fitbit I won at the company party I ended up selling on eBay because it wasn't compatible with my phone. That Starbucks gift card went to a friend of mine who loves coffee; he was very appreciative and used it the next day. The cat stuff went to a thrift store. No way around that, I don't know anybody that collects cat stuff. This is what happens if you’re not very good at gift giving. The other side of this coin is that there are people that are really good at giving gifts. Surprise surprise; I am one of those people. I am the type of person who will pay close attention to what people say/do, all year long. I examine wish lists with a microscope, cross-check it with other sources, and buy stuff way too early and hold onto it for months. For example: my ex and his brother once talked (around Easter) about a game they used to play a lot when they were kids but no longer had and was out of print. I went online to research it, eventually found and bought a copy off eBay, and it sat in the closet for months until Christmas. They were so blown away that I’d found it that they insisted we play it right away. It was hilarious. Two men in their 40s going bonkers over a game about pigs! This is what I do. I am a generous person; I really do like to see the reaction to a gift that has been specifically tailored for maximum impact. I put major effort into this because I enjoy it. I go out of my way to find truly unique items, where the recipient looks at me, wide-eyed and incredulous, exclaiming “OMG!” or “where did you find this!?!?” On the outside I'll grin, shrug, and say "glad you like it" while on the inside I'm doing back flips in the end zone! This is the whole point; this is my way of expressing affection for my loved ones. I am the Gold Standard of Gift Giving. Having said that, let me state for the record: THIS IS NOT A CHALLENGE. Dear friends and family, PLEASE...know that you are not obligated to try to “beat” me in this; it is not a competition. If you do try, you are more likely to fail in your endeavor. Trying to outdo me in this is not a good idea. Going overboard with quantity is also not necessary. So please, for everyone’s sanity, if you MUST get a gift for someone that you don't know well (or can't compete with, LOL), make it a gift card. You’ll thank me for that later. This vessel continues to vex and confuse; the simplest methods of upkeep are often the most frustrating. The strands at the top do not obey my commands, no matter how forcefully I vocalize my displeasure. I have once again started to utilize heated tools to obtain their acquiescence, but I must refrain from overuse. If I do not, the strands will rebel by attempting to multiply, compounding the initial problem. This has happened before; it is a never-ending struggle. If I could find a way to communicate with them things might go more easily, but thus far all attempts to do so have been in vain. Communication with the inner beings seems easier, but I have noticed that when things are not to their liking they can get very loud, and very suddenly. Today’s grumblings were so vociferous that I was certain those nearby were aware of their complaints. The Oracle says today is National French Fry Day, so I indulged in this ritual during the mid-day feast. One of the natives inquired where the popular Scottish place was located, as he was unfamiliar with the local surroundings and needed guidance. I obliged, as I have been there many times. I find they sometimes overdo the sodium chloride on their grilled fare, but not today. The syrupy, bubbly liquid concoction that accompanies the standard meal was sweet but not particularly good at quenching thirst. I will endeavor to acquire a different selection next time. Time appears to be inconsistent in this continuum, with units passing quickly or slowly, with no discernible pattern to the differences. I continue to study the phenomenon but full understanding is elusive. Wanna play a game? I’ve got a really simple one, and it won’t take up too much of your time. I’m going to ask you some questions. That’s it, just some super-easy questions about your life, and all you have to do is answer Yes or No. You don’t get any points, but how you answer will show how privileged your life has been. I’d bet anything you’ve had it a lot better than you think you did. Ready? Okay, let’s play: 1) Did you, at any time in your childhood, live in anything other than a house? 2) Did you ever get hand-me-down clothes/toys from an older sibling? 3) Did you ever go shopping for clothes at a thrift store? 4) When you were in school, were you ever picked on, made fun of, or bullied in any way because of how you looked (clothes, hair, glasses, thin/fat, funny teeth, etc.)? 5) When you were in gym class, and the students were told to pick their teams, were you ever picked last? 6a) Did your parents get divorced? 6b) …did you watch (were you in the courtroom for the proceedings)? 7) Did you ever receive welfare/public assistance? 8) Did you ever go to a “free” clinic because you were sick, then not take the prescription they recommended because you couldn’t afford the $5 co-pay? 9a) Have you ever gone shopping for food with coupons? 9b) … with food stamps? 9c) … with both? 10) Have you ever subsisted on ONLY bread and water? 11) Did you ever REGULARLY drink powdered milk because normal milk was too expensive? 12) Did you buy most of your food from the generic aisle (now known as the dollar store)? 13) Have you ever NOT had access to at least one car? 14) Have you ever been evicted for not paying the rent? 15) Have you, or has anyone in your family, been homeless? 16a) Have you ever been called fag, dyke, queer (or similar)? 16b) …even if you are NOT homosexual? 17) Is anyone in your family gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender? 18a) Have you ever been discriminated against because of your sexual orientation? 18b) …your sex? 18c) …your looks? 18d) …your religion (or lack of)? 19a) Have you, or have any of your relatives, ever been arrested? 19b) …over the holidays? 20a) Has anyone in your family ever been the victim of a burglary or theft? 20b) …rape? 21) Has anyone in the family been assaulted – physically or verbally – by someone outside of the family? 22) Has anyone in the family been physically, mentally or psychologically abused, by another family member? 23) Has anyone in your family ever been diagnosed with a mental illness (including depression), or a learning disorder? 24) Has anyone in your family ever been hospitalized for a mental illness? 25a) Has anyone in your family ever talked about, threatened, attempted, or actually committed suicide? 25b) Have you ever considered suicide? How to determine your level of privilege: It’s very simple. - If you answered “NO” to *any* of these questions, your life has been easier than you think. - If you answered “NO” to *a lot* of these questions, you have no freaking clue how difficult life can be for those less fortunate, and my guess is you haven’t really struggled at all. You have no idea what true hardship really is, and I’d suggest thinking long and hard about how lucky you’ve been before you speak negatively about anyone on welfare or using food stamps. I came up with this questionnaire because a lot of people I know have had it way easier in life than I have, and they really don’t understand what it’s like to be less privileged. I wanted to give them at least a glimpse into the life of someone they think is just like them, but is not. I say that because I answered “YES” to every single one of these questions. Every. Single. One. If the situation didn’t apply to me directly, then they definitely applied to someone in my immediate family. To be fair, even I’ve not had it that bad - there are a lot more questions that could be asked that paint a much darker picture of modern American life than what I’ve experienced. I didn’t include them because they didn’t apply to my particular situation, and this was specifically designed to cater to the people I know, to give them a baseline comparison. Someone you know, someone very close to you, has been through a lot of crap that you’ve never had to experience. The very last question is my attempt to get others to realize that suicide isn’t what they think it is. Everyone is on their own journey, we all take different paths. If you’ve never considered suicide, then perhaps you should think about why you’ve never been down that road. If you’ve been lucky in the Life Lottery, kindly remember that many others are not. This holiday season I wanted to do something festive on Facebook, but wanted it to be more interactive than a simple countdown (which I'd done twice before), so I created the Christmas Song Game. Every day I would post a few stanzas of a holiday tune and players would try to give me the title of the song. Points were given for correct answers, extra trivia questions could give extra points, and the person with the most points at the end would get a handmade prize (I'm crafty; I have a bunch of hand-made stuff to give out). Sounds simple, right? It is, but there's a LOT of holiday tunes out there, so I set up some restrictions. First, I removed all "traditional" carols from consideration (Silent Night, Joy to the World, Deck the Halls, etc.) simply because we all know these songs too well. We've heard them so many times it's like they're part of our DNA, and using them would have made the game much too easy. However, when going through my iTunes I saw that I have a pretty good variety in my holiday music collection that could make the game really challenging, especially if I included parodies. However, there are just so many of those that it's impossible to know them all; to be fair, I took them out. Removing the parodies got rid of every Bob Rivers song I have (which is a ton), and then I said no to songs in any language other than English. I have a bunch of those too, but I didn't think it'd be fair for folks who don't speak another language, like French, Spanish or Latin. That still left about 50 songs I could use, comprising a good mix of well-known and lesser-known tunes. I decided to cap it at 30, a nice round number that also allowed me to double-post on some days, and have the whole game wrapped up and the Ultimate Prize Package sent out to the winner *before* Christmas Day. Thing is, during the selection process I noticed a large percentage of these songs seemed incredibly sad. That was odd, so I looked into it further, especially after friends that were playing the game commented on the high number of depressing lyrics. That's not actually the case when you look at my entire collection, but after chopping out so many for this game I was left with a lot of sad stuff. Out of the songs chosen, I found there are four basic types: Political, Snarky, Scary or Sad. The political ones are really obvious, and include Do They Know Its Christmas, by the 80s supergroup-for-charity Band Aid, and Happy Xmas (War is Over) from John Lennon and Yoko Ono. These deliberate attempts to shame the public about society's misdeeds in the hope that we'll change can be particularly annoying. Giving to charities is an integral part of the holiday season, but these are pop-music guilt trips. (Like we didn't already know that both the third world and war totally suck?) Finger-wagging, even with good intentions, is still finger-wagging. Sheez. The snarky songs are a lot more light-hearted but also twisted; they're funny *and* disturbing. Take a look at these examples: I'm Gettin Nuttin for Christmas has a completely unrepentant child gleefully listing all the bad things he's done, and then tipping off a burglar to rob his own house for a cut of the profits. There is also Green Chri$tma$, the story of a Madison Avenue Scrooge but *without* the happy ending. That's right, *this* Scrooge does not see the error in his ways, and Bob Cratchit is shunned for being so old school. Then there's that bastion of all that is unholy, South Park, where no topic is left unscathed. Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo, Merry F*king Christmas, Christmastime in Hell… even Dreidel Dreidel Dreidel has Cartman saying Jews are lame. Now here's where it starts getting really interesting. Scary holiday tunes detail incredibly upsetting scenarios that *could* be real. Weird Al Yankovic is especially good at this, and both of his two Christmas tunes made the list. Christmas at Ground Zero describes an atomic war breaking out on Christmas Eve, while The Night Santa Went Crazy has a drunken Santa shooting up his workshop. Real cheerful, huh. The love-it-or-hate-it Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer sees a treasured family member become the victim of a hit-and-run driver. The Kinks' song Father Xmas is especially upsetting simply because it has a completely believable storyline: a guy dressed as Santa for a job gets mugged by poor kids who have no use for impractical things such as toys. Wow. The first time I heard it I thought, this is much too real. Another song in that vein is Blink-182's I Won't Be Home For Christmas, where a guy gets so disgusted at holiday gatherings that he pulls out a baseball bat and ends up in jail. Then there is John Denver's Please Daddy (Don't Get Drunk This Christmas), which has a kid pleading with his father to avoid alcohol over the holidays because he doesn't want to see his mother cry…. *again*. Daaaaaaaammmmnn. Even Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer gets bullied and shamed by his peers, and all under the gaze of an equally unpleasant Santa. This guy (it's SANTA for crying out loud!) actually *joins* in the shunning of Rudolph, until his abnormality is suddenly useful. What an opportunistic jerk! But the modern era does not hold the monopoly on upsetting imagery, oh no. Take Coventry Carol, a song from the 16th century (!) that focuses on the biblical account of King Herod who, seeing Jesus as a threat, issues a decree that *all* male infants shall be killed. Geez! This is a really good reminder that the story of Christ's birth (all by itself!) has a big, steamy helping of pathos. The rest of the songs fall under the sad category, and almost all of them deal with separation or being alone/single over the holidays. A few choice examples: Bing Crosby's classic I'll Be Home For Christmas (but only in his dreams), Dean Martin's The Christmas Blues, the Carpenters' Merry Christmas Darling, Michael Bolton's Our Love is Like a Holiday, Barry Manilow's I Guess There Ain't No Santa Claus, Nick Lowe's Christmas At The Airport (a guy stuck at a deserted airport in a snowstorm finds a meal from the trash can?!?), Britney Spears' My Only Wish, John Denver's Christmas for Cowboys (alone on the plains with only a sleeping bag and campfire), even Elvis Presley will have a Blue Christmas without you. Why would I have so many of these depressing holiday tunes? Well, it's really not that hard to understand …most of my life has been spent alone. I've had very few long-term relationships, and until recently most of my holidays were spent by myself or with a cat. Even as a child I was alone a lot. I was the shy, quiet, unpopular kid that got bullied in school, and excluded at home because I was the youngest of four and thus too small to do a lot of things. I got used to my own company at a *very* early age. Nowadays I look at my friends and in-laws in awestruck wonder: they have no idea how good they have it. They've been surrounded by supportive friends and family their entire lives, never having experienced the kind of isolation I did. But that's not always a bad thing. The loneliness and solitude of the single life can get to you sometimes, but it also makes you a lot more self-reliant. I knew a girl that hated not being in a relationship, absolutely *hated* it. I once asked her why she was so adamant about finding a boyfriend and she practically screamed at me: "So I won't be alone!" I just stared at her, completely dumbfounded. This kind of dependence on others was completely foreign to me. It does, however, make you appreciate the camaraderie and togetherness when you do have it. Sounds depressing, right? Exactly, and one of the best kinds of therapy for depression is finding out you're not the only one feeling that way. Plus, despite what some may think, singing the blues can actually alleviate them, so listening to something as simple as a sad, scary, or snarky Christmas song is a whole lot cheaper than therapy. Feliz Navidad! Many folks in the corporate world love to use the phrase “Fake it til you make it.” The idea behind it is that it’s a way to build your confidence; it’s supposed to help you mentally prepare for a task or job, even one that you may know little if anything about. Act like you know what you’re doing or saying, and eventually you will know. This is total bullshit. There are far too many people in the world that act like they know everything. The grunts in the office world know this all too well – there are waaaayy too many managers out there that haven’t got a friggin’ clue how their department works. Even when they admit they don’t know what they’re talking about, they still expect us to believe them. How is this good? Believing someone that has no experience at all on any given subject can have seriously bad repercussions. Let’s set up an example. Say John Doe, who has often said he loves animals, got into a conversation about what dogs eat, and said that chocolate is fine for them. However, John lives alone and actually knows nothing about dogs because he’s never had one, nor do any of his friends. He made this statement because he saw a person in a park give a dog a chocolate chip cookie, with apparently no ill effects. What do you think would happen if the person(s) he was talking to never questioned the truth of John’s statement, then went home and gave their dog a chocolate bar? The dog would probably get sick; possibly even die, depending on the size of the dog and the amount of chocolate they consumed. A chocolate chip cookie doesn't have a lot of chocolate in it, and if it was given to a large dog it might not affect them at all. However, if it was given to a small dog like a Chihuahua there could be problems, and giving them an actual chocolate bar would be even worse. If John knows nothing about dogs, why would he make such an irresponsible statement? Just to sound like he’s an expert on dogs? And how exactly is this going to help him become an expert? The short answer is it won’t. In fact, it would do exactly the opposite. Instead of giving good advice, he gave awful advice, which would at the very least seriously damage his reputation , make others think he’s not an expert at all, maybe even face charges for effectively killing someone’s dog. That kind of result would be his own fault; he’s not an expert and therefore shouldn't be acting like one. But….what if, in the course of the original conversation, he also said “I’m not a doctor” before saying chocolate was okay for dogs? He could easily flip the blame back onto the dog owner for believing his statement without verifying its accuracy first. What a total jerk. But why would he say something like that to begin with? Was he just trying to sound impressive? And again, how is this going to help him become an expert? Politicians are notorious for doing this kind of thing. An excellent example is the recent dust-up over climate change. Some try to claim ignorance by first saying “I’m not a scientist” but then make some statement against climate change that has no basis in fact whatsoever – such as scientists can’t agree on the subject. Really? Out of all the scientific research papers published about climate change, it was found that 97% of them agreed that humans play a role in causing it. But some politicians think, and continue to state to the public, that scientists can’t agree on the topic. How is deliberately misleading people going to help anyone? How can a problem be fixed if some of us can’t even admit there IS a problem? To be fair, these are extreme examples. Giving fake advice that could cause death or negatively affect anyone (let alone millions) is vastly different than saying you know how to operate a program such as Microsoft Access when you don’t actually know anything about it. This scenario is far more likely, but there could still be negative consequences. It may not affect millions, but it could definitely affect you. Screwing up an important report because you don’t know how to use the program could mess up your standing in the office big time. Here’s another example: You've said you know XYZ software to get a job, but on your first day they ask you to run a report using that very system; how do you get it done? Feign confusion? Say the printer isn't working? Lie to a coworker about your system access to get them to do it for you? This strategy simply won’t hold up over the long term. You either do it yourself (thus exposing your lack of knowledge) or cajole others into doing it for you. And by the way, manipulating people to do your work is not delegating. Eventually your boss is going to figure out you’re full of it, and then they’re going to wonder what else you’re hiding. How can they trust you when your behavior shows you to be insincere and a liar? You lied on the application, lied in the interview, and even lied to your co-worker about your system access. In some places, just lying on your application is immediate grounds for dismissal. Kind of puts the damper on your attempts at “making it”, doesn't it? Expertise is earned through hard work; it’s not absorbed by osmosis. But that’s not all! No, really. There can be some pretty serious ramifications from trying too hard to be something you’re not. Take any job that requires you to interact with the public. Managers always want you to be pleasant and cheerful to the customer, even if you don’t feel like it. This is understandable, and from a customer’s viewpoint it’s quite desirable. Nobody wants to interact with a bank teller or a cashier that’s in a really bad mood. The problem here is that for people that are not naturally cheery, this is really hard to do. Maintaining all this fake cheerfulness can create a lot of stress on the person doing it. Eventually you start to resent being forced to act nicely when you really don’t give a hoot. It becomes physically and emotionally draining, and can lead to complete burnout. It’s even worse if you fake financial security. Pretending you have more money than you actually do more often than not means you end up deep in debt, maybe even bankrupt. (Anyone remember what happened to Jules in St. Elmo's Fire?) The only way “fake it til you make it” actually works is if you lack self-confidence, fear speaking in public, or some other such psychological issue. That’s right – it’s a psychological thing, not a way to get ahead with no actual training. That’s when this credo becomes a form of therapy; where you face your fears head-on. Like immersion therapy – if you’re afraid of water, then you expose yourself to water a little bit at a time and eventually you won’t be scared of it anymore. But in the working world – and here’s the important part – before you can fake the confidence of presenting your idea(s), you have to have the nuts and bolts of expertise to back it up. If you have a kick-ass presentation that will change the world but are so afraid of speaking in public that you never get to present it, then it’ll never change the world. But … faking confidence to give a presentation isn't going to work if you don’t have the kick-ass presentation to begin with. John Doe will never become an expert on dogs by saying outright false information, even if he does say it with a ton of confidence. His statements are still untrue, which makes him a stupid yahoo with no expertise in dogs at all. Expertise is earned through hard work; it’s not absorbed by osmosis. The bottom line here is that people who “fake it,” only to appear more capable, are complete frauds. A couple of links for you to peruse:
Some info about "fake it til you make it" and why it's bad Some info about how they got the "97% of scientists agree" figure Recently I had the occasion to spend a few days with my relatives, and realized that I occupy a very weird spot in my family tree. Unique amongst the group, I seem to be the only one able to relate, on some level or another, to everybody. Don’t get me wrong, we have our disagreements, but even with the different viewpoints, experiences and priorities, we all get along pretty well. There are some very clear lines that divide us, which is normal. Cultural markers and age barriers do tend to pigeonhole us into specific categories within the larger group – parents are parents, kids are kids, etc. Yet somehow I am the only one able to bridge the generations fairly easily. I can chat with my dad about history and politics, commiserate with my sisters about the foibles of celebrities, and quote current movie lines with my nephews. But here’s the rub – when I say I can relate to every member, I really do mean every one of them. My parents, my siblings, my nephews. This bridging between generations is unusual. Even if everyone gets along great with each other, there is most definitely a divide between family groups. Take music, for example – every generation has their favorites, and parents usually can’t stand what their kids listen to, who in turn are baffled by what their kids enjoy. My folks listened to a lot of 60’s folk music, my siblings were fans of 70’s pop/rock, and my nephews liked Avril Levigne and Eminem. Me? I like them all. This makes me sound a lot more sophisticated than I actually am, but it underscores the ease in which I am able to flit from one group to the next. It’s just bizarre. How am I able to do this, to get along with such a varied group of people? Is it simply because they’re my relatives? I’d reject that idea right away – blood is not always thicker than water (unfortunately). Sometimes we have altercations where the bad feelings last for years. Obviously it isn’t all fluffy clouds and butterflies (nothing’s perfect), but eventually we do get past the bad stuff and can communicate again. I can understand some psychological reasons for our different behaviors, but I’m not a trained psychologist. I know all too well that my limited understanding of the brain doesn’t always work in other circumstances, with other people. There are people I work with whose attitudes and/or actions I sometimes have great difficulty comprehending. I’m sure they’d say the same about me. So clearly there’s a lot more going on than just understanding someone’s outlook. So how did I get this unusual ability? It cannot be understated that in my family I truly am the outsider. Part of that is because I don’t live anywhere near my relatives. Physical distance helps a great deal – if I had to deal with them on a more regular basis (like the folks I work with), we might annoy each other constantly. However, at the heart of this issue, is how I can move amongst all of them so easily. The core difference really is because I am the outsider. I simply don’t fit in with the rest. Seriously. I’m the oddball. The iconoclast, the true independent, the black sheep. Whatever you want to call us, we’re the ones who never quite fit in with the others. Like the cheese, I stand alone. But how is this possible? They are my relatives, after all. I should have some kind of common ground to start from. Other than DNA, a love of reading/writing, and sharing a liking for some variants of Star Trek, there’s not much else. Even with all these people around I never seemed to get really close to any one family member, with the only possible exception being my mother, as I take after her in more ways than I can count. However, lately I realized there really was a very good reason for this: my age. I know what you’re thinking: that explanation doesn’t make sense, but hear me out on this – I was actually born in a different generation than everyone else. My parents were what they call the Silent Generation (aka the Traditionalists). Most children from this group of people were called the Baby Boomers – those born after World War II. The next two generations are Generation X, and Generation Y, aka the Millennials. I am the youngest of four, and all my siblings are Boomers, but I am not. My brother, the closest in age to me, was born four years beforehand, so I am the only one of us firmly ensconced in Gen X territory. This isolates me because I have no familial contemporaries. Mother, father, step-parents: all Traditionalists. Siblings: all Boomers. Nieces/nephews: all Millennials. I am the only one from Generation X. The more I look into this, the more sense it makes. A quick Google search brings up lots of different articles, papers and slideshows that illustrate the differences between these four groups of people. And there really are a lot of differences. The way each of us thinks, our fears and desires, our motivations – they’re all different. Just a few years separate me from my siblings, but for all intents and purposes, I’m from a totally different world. Some of those articles I found I could have written, using information gleaned from just my family alone. For example, let’s look at work and careers. Traditionalists are loyalists; it was common for them to stay with one firm for their entire career. My dad is a classic Traditionalist. He was career military, and then spent 20+ years with the Department of Defense until he retired. Technically, he was a “government man” his whole adult life. None of the rest of us has had that experience. The Boomers, with their mistrust of authority (brought about by the Civil Rights Movement, Vietnam, Watergate), trusted their instincts when finding the best way to pay the bills. That means that if they found that their manager at ABC Company was untrustworthy in any fashion, even if they liked the work, they definitely wouldn’t stick around for 20+ years. Boomers also tended to find one area of expertise they could focus on, but worked at many different firms to do that one thing. One of my sisters exemplifies this trend: she started in the child care field even before graduating from high school, yet over the years she’s moved between several employers. Generation X and the Millennials have a totally different outlook about careers. While both are very comfortable with constantly changing technology, Gen X-ers are extremely resourceful and self-reliant. This has a lot to do with how they were often on their own as kids since both of their parents worked; no stay-at-home moms for them. Career-wise, that makes them more likely to work at a lot of different firms, way more than their elders. Essentially, Gen X has portable careers: they learn as much as they can and then take their skill set anywhere they want to go. They are more generalists than specialists. That’s pretty much been the story of my entire work life, as well as many of my peers; I must have three times the total number of employers that my siblings have had. Millennials grew up with a much higher rate of violence and gangs than the rest of us, and are thus highly concerned about personal safety. To alleviate that concern, they’re also extremely open and tolerant to different cultures and lifestyles, and education is key. This makes them much more comfortable having more than one option with regard to jobs, and are very open to having several parallel career paths. More than one set of job skills is sort of like a career safety net: if one doesn’t work out, they’ve got something else to fall back on. This seems to be the blueprint for all of my nieces/nephews; they’ve always got several things going in the pipeline. Also, one of them was so concerned about his personal safety he even invested in a bullet-proof vest! That seemed excessive to me at the time, but I understand it a lot better now. Which brings us back to this ability of mine to seemingly transcend generations. The unique spot I occupy in my family makes empathizing with each of them much easier than it might otherwise be. It also highlights my eccentric reputation: I’m the one that sends postcards and t-shirts from far-off places. I’m the one that sends silly, non-sequitur text messages, and I am the only one in the family over the age of 30 that regularly uses modern technology. Every. Single. Day. In my family, I am a Generation of One. I am a rock, I am an island. (or, How I Stopped Worrying About Sports and Came to Love Soccer) One of my nephews has been taking me to task on Facebook lately for going on about the World Cup by stating "you don't even like sports!" Each time he does this I point out that I've always liked soccer, but it seems he conveniently forgets about that, just so he can bug me again.
He doesn’t comment on all of my World Cup posts, however. He never says anything when I use online translators to post something in German while they are playing, he has no comment when I use my rusty French to cheer on Les Bleus, nor does he say one word about any other game-related post (“and the Dutch pull ahead!”). There was nary a peep from him when I re-posted my four-year-old World Cup blog. I've had well over a dozen soccer-related posts since the World Cup started, and slightly more than that on my Twitter feed. You'd think he'd "get it" by now: I obviously like the game. More likely, he’s just being deliberately silly and needling me whenever he can. So, just to needle him back (bwahahahaha), allow me to explain my history with sports in general. Remember middle school, or as some places call it, Junior High? Yeah, that cesspool of hormones that bridged the gap between grade school and high school. Remember gym class during that time? Those were the years when we graduated from dodgeball and ruffling parachutes to playing actual team sports. Those were also the years when teachers demonstrated remarkably sadistic tendencies and introduced us to… ::shudder::.... Picking Our Own Teams! This is probably the single most important reason why I don’t like sports in general. Picking teams is one of the worst childhood experiences ever, esp. since it was mandatory. Two members of the class (usually a couple of the "popular" kids) were chosen by the teachers as captains, and they would then alternate choosing classmates to fill out their teams. The choosing of team members usually followed a very strict pattern: friends first, decent players second, nerds and other socially awkward kids last. I was invariably chosen last. The only reason I was chosen at all was because everybody had to be involved, no one was left out. Whether they sucked at the sport or not wasn’t important, everyone had to participate, everyone was included. That’s right, this torture was mandatory for the entire class. While including everyone may have had noble intentions, there were plenty of times I would have been just fine not being forced to play a sport I totally sucked at. And I really, truly sucked at team sports. I was okay with individual sports (swimming, bicycling), but team sports? Forget it. It didn't even matter which one it was: baseball, basketball, field hockey, volleyball, "flag" football (AKA the kid-friendly, no-tackle, completely lame version of American football)....I was flat-out awful for every single one. Except soccer. Soccer was the only team sport I was ever any good at. Why, I have no idea. I just took to it naturally, I guess. I loved it! It was fun! And, since I was kind of meek and didn't want to be in the spotlight, I let the massively competitive kids handle the goals. True sportsmanship, right? To be honest, that was more politically motivated. This was the only time in gym class where my teammates weren't constantly glaring at me. Helping them get a goal was loads better than hearing them groan because I’d missed making a basket for the umpteenth time. They were happy for scoring, and I was happy just to help. When we played soccer was also the only time I was ever amongst the first kids picked for the teams. I distinctly remember one soccer-choosing-session where someone pointed at me and said “Pick her, she’s good.” That never happened for any other sport. Naturally, that would lead me to feeling very positive towards soccer. I was the type who was good at dribbling and good at passing; I probably would have made a really good defender or midfielder. I would have, that is, if the schools I attended had soccer teams. They didn’t. This was before soccer started catching on in the US, so the only time I ever got to play it was during gym class in middle school. In the time and place where I grew up, there were no grade school or middle school teams of any type, and no high school soccer teams. Plus, nobody ever wanted to play pick up games of soccer after school. If they played any at all it was traditional American sports – baseball, football, etc., so of course I never took part. Why would I? I was terrible at it. We never saw soccer on TV either, so we never talked about it at school. Soccer was something the rest of the world cared about. That was a bombshell to me. Why does the rest of the world love this sport but the US does not? I was intrigued, and once I played it (and thoroughly enjoyed the experience), it made me wonder what else was out there that the US was ignoring. Clearly, the world does not begin and end with the US border. But, having literally no support for soccer when I was little, I never got to see it much until cable TV came around and even then it was hard to find. The Spanish-language channels would always carry it, but since I never took Spanish I couldn't understand the commentators, let alone the schedule. Having weird working hours that continuously changed did not help. Late night cable channel-surfing would occasionally find an international league game with British announcers, but these gems were few and far between. Until 1994. This was the year the World Cup was held in the good ole U S of A. How they won the bid to host the World Cup is a mystery to me, esp. when you consider that soccer at that time was still mostly a kids’ game for the majority of the US population, but kudos to them for doing it. Even good college players in the US went overseas to play soccer professionally because there wasn't a league for them here. The MLS (Major League Soccer) had literally just been formed the year before, and the exposure of the World Cup gave it a huge boost. I was living in Chicago in 1994, which was one of the host cities, and I scraped together just enough money to get a single ticket to one of the games; I attended the Germany vs. Belgium Second Round match. It didn't matter that I knew none of the players’ names, it didn't matter that I didn't know any of the European leagues or clubs. I was a spectator at a sporting event that I had always enjoyed, and being surrounded by extremely vocal German fans made me truly feel like I was part of something much bigger. This was something that people the whole world over got excited about. It was glorious; I loved every minute of it. Since then I have watched every single World Cup tournament. As it’s actually aired on US television now, watching it is much easier to do. When I didn’t have cable I’d catch whatever broadcast channel had it, or flip on Univision or Telemundo. Not understanding Spanish was no longer an issue, I could follow the action, and just hearing them yell “Gooooooooaaaaallll!” was worth it. I even got up in the wee hours of the morning in 2002 to watch the live final from Japan. The World Cup is the only team sport tournament I ever get excited about. It rivals only the Olympics in amount of time I spend in front of the television watching sports. I do not regularly watch league games, but at least now I am familiar with some of them. I do not obsess over statistics and coaching strategies, you’ll never catch me following a player draft, and I still do not know the names of most of the players, so in that regard I am not a superfan of the sport. Frankly, most of that stuff doesn't appeal to me at all; I am not that obsessive. But soccer is a sport, and it is one I have always liked, even if I don’t talk about it all that often. Everything else is just meh. I am still in the minority of Americans who like futbol. Big deal. I love the World Cup, and I have plenty of company. I have never forgotten that the world does not end with the US border. Not too long ago my brother died suddenly. No will, no life insurance, no information on what he wanted for a memorial service. Needless to say it was difficult to put together something appropriate as we didn't know what he wanted. My mother died 20 years ago, but she left instructions on what she wanted for her service, which was extremely helpful. I plan to do the same thing. However, I went looking online for some type of memorial service guide, and did find a couple, but nothing that really worked for me. So, I created my own. It works well for a Memorial Service or Funeral, it's also got pretty much all the basics you need for an Obituary, too. I've attached it here so that others may use it. I recommend attaching a copy of a Will and life insurance policy if you have them, and make sure it is easily available should the worst happen. NOTE: This is not a legal document! It does not take the place of a Will, and it is not legally binding. It's just a form one can fill out to help our loved ones after we are gone.
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AuthorDonna Davis Archives
December 2019
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