Jumbo Jet Set

Not too fond of airlines, and not too fond of personal lawsuits. This was a gimmie...

A woman is upset because she was told she was "too fat to fly." Had the woman been a student in a classroom, the person who said this a physics professor, and the comment in conjunction with a lecture on gravitational effects related to aerodynamics...no problem. Unfortunately, the woman was an airline passenger, the person who said this was a gate agent for Southwest Airlines, and the offending remark, while a scientifically correct, was rude and inappropriate for any airline employee to have done openly in public. The agent allegedly said this with respect to Southwest Airlines' policy regarding passenger size and the requirement that this woman would have to purchase an additional seat. The woman countered that the airline's policy is too vague and inconsistently applied, therefore she has filed a lawsuit against Southwest.

The woman in this case is not suing for monetary damages, which I find curiously un-American. Instead, she is seeking to have an industry standard put in place that sets rules "for flyers who have to buy a second seat." She stated in a T.V. interview that she's "not opposed to paying more if you (the airline) tell me what I have to pay and I know at the point of purchase." Fair enough. Here's a portion of the current Southwest Airlines boarding guideline for fat people Customer Size Policy:

"Customers who encroach upon any part of the neighboring seats(s) should proactively book the needed number of seats prior to travel. The armrest is considered to be the definitive boundary between seats and measures 17 inches in width."

I want to know what part of "17 inches in width" she thinks is vague. I checked other airlines' policies, and they're more vague than Southwest. By and large (no pun intended) they generally enforce additional seat purchases on a case-by-case basis with the litmus test being the ability to lower the armrests and buckle the seat belt. As far as I can tell, Southwest is the only airline that puts an actual figure on your figure...17 inches. The woman knows how big she is, and she knows what the restriction is. I don't understand the problem. Can't measure yourself? Then let's do what they do at theme parks and put up a cartoon character to size everyone before they reach the gate.

This little piggy says, “If you’re wider than this,

you need to buy a second seat.”

From the interview and from the woman's blog (she has a weight-loss blog where she talks about this lawsuit and other weighty issues), it's clear to me her argument is with the consistency in Southwest's application of the rule as there have been times her size when flying was not an issue. Reading into that leads me to conclude that she knows how big she is, and that she flies enough that she should have an expectation there may be a question about her size before she gets to the airport. Knowing this, she should either pay for the second seat at the point of purchase ("proactively book" - see vague policy) or be prepared to fork over additional cash at the gate. Seems like any inconsistency in the application of the policy would be in her favor.

Knugget of Knowledge: Not widely known, the issue of flyer size dates back to the early flying days of the Wright brothers. Prior to Wilbur Wright's well-known 5-minute flight on November 9, 1904, Orville had several opportunities to test-pilot the craft. His best flight lasted a mere 12 seconds. This came after other attempts by Orville, some culminating in minor crashes. In this photo, taken the morning of November 9 as the brothers walked to their airstrip, Wilbur, upset at Orville's inability to maintain a sustained flight, allegedly told his brother, "You can grab a seat back in the hanger, fat ass. I got this one."

I can't help but assume that this woman has been getting away with not paying extra more often than she has been asked to pay extra if the policies were enforced. In fact, she has an apology letter from Southwest from the first time she was stopped that she used to avoid paying for a second seat the last time she was stopped. But winning this personal battle isn't enough. She wants a policy that's consistent and applicable to everyone, so here you go...

The only objective practice I can think of for buying a ticket would be if airlines set their prices based on a passenger's weight. Grocery stores price fruits and vegetables and meat per pound. The Postal Service and UPS and FedEx charge by weight. Why not airlines? Price per pound with a generously included buffer of 5 pounds if you book your flight in advance in case you put on a couple of pounds or want to enjoy that Cinnabon while you wait for your flight. Exceed the weight on your ticket, pay extra for every pound over. And everyone gets sized at the gates. No exceptions, because everything in the world should be applied to everyone exactly the same way. Come in under weight...rebate! Flying with kids on the family vacation? That adult-sized $250 seat is now about $100 for little Timmy, so go upgrade that hotel room, dad!

Of course, fat people won't view this as fair, but if life was fair, no one would be fat. With the obesity epidemic in this country, perhaps saving $20, $30, or more on a plane ticket might be a positive step towards a healthier population. And those with medical conditions...sorry. I'd allow a medical exemption except I've seen too many people walking comfortably away from handicap parking spaces to give a crap about the validity of a doctor's note. Nope, crack open the wallet a little wider because that's what your seat needs to be.

For me, this isn't about defining people as fat, obese or large. It's not about the arbitrary enforcement of policies by the airports, airlines or TSA. No, this is about me being tired of reading about people suing the world because it doesn't fit them or their concept of fairness. Guess what? The world doesn't always fit me, either. I don't care if it's clothes or airplane seats, if you want a tailored fit, you gotta pay extra.

But here, again, we have one individual who feels personally disadvantaged and is seeking an across-the-board remedy through the legal system. And the fallout from that remedy could be someone else or some other group gets impacted. This will ultimately end in a win for the airlines. Airlines don't like empty seats unless they're paid for. I can recall only two times I've flown when I've seen vacant seats, and they weren't next to a fat person. They were just empty. If a size standard is enforced, there will be a lot more empty seats, and I guarantee the airlines will make sure they're all paid for. And in the end, by pushing a lawsuit for an absolute standard to make the airlines do what she feels is right for her, all this woman may accomplish will be to punish passengers who are big like her by forcing airlines to make them pay for what they may not have had to pay for before.

Because that's fair.

Four Things Better Left Unsaid

I'm not one to point out peoples' irritating speech patterns, but there are things people say that would be better left unsaid. I don't need to hear your personal disclaimer for what's about to come out of your mouth, nor do I need you to preface your words with self-importance to complete the delusion in your mind that your advice is somehow better for me than my own. There are too many examples for me to include in one blog post, so to make a long story short, here are four of them. I know you probably know more than four, but if I were you I'd want me to keep your reading manageable. It's the least I can do.

“X” marks the spot where some of your

little treasures are better left buried.

"I'm not [insert what you think you're not here], but..." It's the opening line of the hypocrite's exemption. I'm not one to complain, but here's my complaint. I'm not an expert, but here's my expert opinion. I'm not against gay marriage, but... I'm not a racist, but... I'm not a doctor, but... The list is as endless as things you're not. It's a defensive preface someone uses like it's some kind of free pass to express ignorance or bias on a particular subject, and especially when it comes to giving advice. If you're "not," close your mouth so I can listen to the person who "is." You are allowed to exhale without words coming out, so stop multi-tasking, because you know what you're not? Helping.

"..., so to make a long story short, ..." Nope, I'm afraid you can't. This is most often heard toward the end of a story, so if you got it to this point...well, you can't unburn a candle. All you did by saying this is reveal that a shortened version of this masterpiece already existed and the listener just happened to be lucky enough to get the director's extended cut instead of the Reader's Digest edited version. In fact, the shortened version was probably so boring there was a need to include more words in a vain attempt to make it sound interesting...even to you. Don't confuse the listener remaining in that chair as being completely engrossed in your every word. They've simply developed a motor skill paralysis that is keeping them from getting up and walking away. If you really want to make your long story short, then just do it from the start. We don't really need to know how many phone calls you made, how many different supervisors you spoke with, and how your "threat" to cancel your cable service got you that $20 credit on your next bill. Cut to the chase before our eyes glaze over and all we can hear from you is the grown-up voice in a Peanuts cartoon.

"If I were you..." And yet, you aren't. Generally speaking, if you were me you wouldn't think of suggesting what you'd do in my place. You're only doing this because you don't have to suffer the consequences of being me if I do as you suggest. There's not much difference between "If I were you..." and "I dare you to..." Like I'm really going to get in the face of some guy twice my size for cutting in front of me in line because that's what you would do if you were me. How about I let you be me so we can see how that scenario plays out. You can be me all the way up to my health insurance co-pay. I'd probably piss myself laughing just imagining all of the things I would do if you'd be held responsible. I'd love to hear an attorney argue, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client committed this crime because my client's friend said that that's what he would do if he was my client. Therefore, I stipulate that my client's friend should be found guilty and do the actual jail time." So be glad you're not me and keep your mouth shut. Besides, I know better than to heed your advice because I can think of a laundry list on reasons from Alimony to Zero credit why I wouldn't want you to be me.

"It's the least I can do." It isn't. Usually someone says this when offering a token amount of help out of guilt to whomever's doing a majority of the work. Let's say it's making dinner...two pots on the stove and something in the oven, the cook trying not to add finger pieces to the food while working the cutting board and measuring ingredients. Then there's that stable point in the process to break free and set the table, balancing plates and silverware to make it in one trip in order to get back to the stove before something boils over. Then some jackass asks something like, "Do you want me to get the napkins for you?" The response is, "Yeah, that would be great," which comes out courteously, but if listened to closely has an unmistakable sound of friction that rolling of the eyes would make if rolling eyes made noise. Then jackass says, smiling, "No problem. It's the least I can do." Is it? That's the least you can do? Really? You mean standing there for an hour nursing that beer and bitching about how busy your day was while watching someone else bounce around the kitchen wasn't already pretty close to the least you can do? Apparently it was a mistake thinking you had set the benchmark for "least you can do" when you put the bottle opener on the counter and your mobility in neutral. Technically, the least you can do is nothing, which means no matter what you do that you think is the least you can do, you will always have another lower level inactivity to fall back on.

Spring Cleaning

There's an accumulation of stuff cluttering the inside of my head so I decided to do a little spring cleaning. I believe any of these topics could be worthy of their own blog posts - and some may yet end up with that distinction - but right now they're only distracting me.

• If you're going to text - send or receive - and you're walking in a crowd, please, get out of the way of the rest of us. You're clearly not paying attention to the world around you, so step aside. Slide up against a wall, or maybe stand next to a tree or homeless person...something the rest of us are prepared to walk around anyway. Stay out of doorways. Simple courtesy. Just get the fuck out of the way. I believe it should be socially acceptable for you to hit someone if they are texting while walking in front of you, oblivious to the rest of the world, and then stop dead in their tracks. I'm not saying ball up the fist and crack them in the face, but anything on the order of an open-handed, Three Stooges slap across the back of the head should be considered reasonable. You can even use your best Moe Howard voice and add a little "Get outta the way, ya numbskull." Same thing if you're in a line and the line is moving but you're not because the person in front of you is updating their facebook status to "Holding up the rest of humanity." If the gap exceeds three people...a middle finger flick to the back of the earlobe should be justified as a little something to bring them back to the here and now.

• Democratic strategist Hilary Rosen set off a mother of a controversy by stating that Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney's wife, Ann, never worked a day in her life. This brought out all sorts of media backlash in support of motherhood being the most difficult job in the world. I will concede that the process of giving birth is difficult. But raising kids? I don't know about that. I considered myself to be about 50% or more into raising my two kids. I did probably everything their mother did almost equally as much, and as well, if not better - diapers, bathing, entertaining, feeding. Okay, except breast feeding, although given the male anatomy it would have technically been more difficult for me than for her. So while raising kids is not an easy task, calling it a job is pandering. Making it a woman's job is sexist pandering. I'm sure if being a mother was a job I'd have heard about it if only because I'm a man taking work away from a woman. (Didn't happen.) So it ain't a job. If, however, motherhood was to become a class of employment, then we need hiring standards before anyone has kids to make sure the workforce is qualified for the job. Nothing too challenging. An application, a few personal references and a piss test.

• I hate people who prevent me from going down the aisle in the grocery store because they park their shopping cart in the center of it. If you do that and you're not within range to move it, I may be tempted to put something in your cart. And not something good, like candy. It'll be a box of embarrassment, like condoms. Have fun at the checkout counter.

• If you are standing at an uncontrolled intersection that has crosswalks and you're not going to cross, step back from the curb. If you are going to cross, make some eye contact. I don't know what happened to looking both ways before crossing a street, but I'm getting fed up with people thinking they can step out into moving traffic as if those white lines of paint on the ground are high enough to stop a car from rolling through. I realize the law says I have to stop for you when you're in the crosswalk, but you still have to exercise due caution getting into it. It's not wise to assume that once your foot leaves the curb mine will leave the gas pedal.

• White Hispanic. Yeah, like that changes everything.

• Weather forecasts are bullshit, especially the "percent chance of rain" predictions. You know what the difference between a 40% chance of rain and a 60% chance of rain is? Neither do weather people. A 40% chance of rain means that if the same weather conditions exist in a location similar to yours, it'll rain 4 out of 10 times. That also means 6 out of 10 it won't. If there is a chance of rain, the chance is 100%! Either there's a chance, or there's no chance. There is no in-between. So stop putting Vegas odds on my weather. There should only be three rain forecasts: ain't gonna rain, looks like it could rain, and it's raining. You want to know how to plan your day around rain if you aren't sure? Drive by a car wash, or call a roofer. If they aren't working, carry an umbrella.

• Here's something relatively sexist. I was thinking about old job titles - mailman, policeman, repairman, etc. - and how they've changed to become gender neutral - letter carrier, police officer, repair person. I was trying to think of any titles still in existence that end with "-man." I couldn't. Then the irony dawned on me that there are two male-gendered titles feminists hadn't been able to change: "woman" and "female." (*Blogger's note: If you come up with a male-gendered occupation or title, send it to me so I can research why an attorney hasn't made a buck changing it.)

Words, Part 4: Disciplined Writing

Blogger's note: "Words" is an ongoing feature in which I take a look at special qualities and misrepresentations of the English language, how much fun it is to play with its words, and why it reigns as one of the hardest languages to master.

A senior at an Indiana high school was disciplined for using the word "fuck" and a variation of that word in a tweet. The message was reported to have been sent at 2:30 in the morning from what the student claimed was a personal account. The school countered the tweet was adorned with its IP address. I don't much care for involving myself in any debate generated from this issue regarding a person's free speech away from an institution or workplace - or in general - vs. the right of an institution or employer to monitor personal behavior outside their immediate control. Both sides have as much merit as they do fault. I'm not the student here, not the student's parents, not the principal or the teacher or the school board or the moral conscience of our society as a whole. What I am is a writer.

An apparent failure in teaching English

composition is not including where a

“suspension” occurs in sentence diagrams.

As I have stated in previous posts, I believe there are no bad words, only bad judgment in how they are used. An individual chooses what comes out of their mouths (Tourette's exclusion noted), or in this case off their fingertips, and the individual should be held accountable accordingly. I am certainly not in a position to determine that level of accountability. I am qualified, though, to look at the incident from a personal perspective in an effort to form an opinion through which I can attempt to rationalize this behavior, thereby continuing my efforts in facilitating part of the healing process that I believe will bring us back together as a nation. Or, I can just do what I normally do in these posts...pick at the scab. But before I dig in a nail, here's the student's tweet in its original dispatch:

(Warning: The following quote contains some graphic fucking language.)

"Fuck is one of those fucking words you can fucking put anywhere in 

a fucking sentence and it still fucking makes sense."

My initial reaction was one of mild shock. I always thought an -ing word not being used as a verb in the present participle tense was always a descriptive modifier in the form of an adjective preceding the noun, and never used as an adverb in the form of an intensifier preceding the verb.

Additionally, I took exception to the accuracy of the statement that putting the word "fuck" anywhere in a sentence maintains the sentence's sensibility. One must certainly determine in what form the word will be used. In the case of its use as a verb, verb tense must be considered - present, past or future -, as well as the perfect, progressive and perfect-progressive forms of the aforementioned tenses. And in choosing the correct form of the word (e.g., verb, noun, adjective), it should be noted that the application of the word chosen may not conform to the established rules of grammar.

For example, not all prepositional phrases will absorb the -ing form of the word. Prepositions functioning as adjectives or adverbs are already modifying the noun or verb, and therefore the addition of the word would confuse not only the structure of the sentence, but also its meaning.

Example 1: Look at the car with the red racing stripe.

In the sentence above, the prepositional phrase (in italics) is modifying the noun "car." Placing the word "fucking" between "car" and the preposition "with" would be grammatically incorrect. It would be acceptable to place the word before "car," or within the prepositional phrase before "red" or "racing." But not between "racing" and "stripe." The reason for this being "racing stripe" is considered an open compound word, meaning the two words together, although written separately, express a single idea. Any separation of the two words by introducing another word would make the sentence awkward. (Go ahead, try it).

The same holds true when a prepositional phrase functions as an adverb:

Example 2: The light wouldn't work despite changing the light bulb.

Here, as in the first example, the structure of the sentence is unacceptable with the separation of the prepositional phrase from the rest of the sentence. An allowance can be made elsewhere in the sentence, with the exception of splitting "light" and "bulb," which is another open compound.

It should be noted, however, that not all prepositional phrases are restrictive. There is a third type of prepositional phrase in which the words function as nouns even though they aren't themselves nouns. These are called nominals, and can be found when used in conjunction with the verb "to be."

Example 3: The car is under the big tree.

As you can see in this example, "under" is the preposition that acts as the nominal to the verb "is." Separation of the prepositional phrase from the rest of the sentence by inserting the word "fucking" before the preposition, while not necessarily grammatically correct, does not alter the meaning of the sentence other than in its tone. It should be noted, though, that normally an -ing word following the "to be" verb creates a continuous verb, as would be the case if the sentence read "...is idling under..." The use of the word "fucking" to separate "is under" would be grammatically correct if you, say, changed "car" to "couple" and changed "is" to its present indicative plural form "are." Otherwise, its only application is to convey attitude.

For a tweet, I have to admit it's one of the more complete expressions I've read in this age when people rely on communication using cryptic, abbreviated texts with character limitations - both in number of letters and personality. Sure, the student needs to be held accountable for his actions, whatever those actions are determined to be. But to his credit, he 1) expressed a thought 2) in a structured format 3) that was not directed toward another person or culture in a demeaning manner 4) within the limited space provided (121 characters out of 144 allowed) 5) using no abbreviated terminology. That's worthy of at least a B+ with a smiley face.

Again, without having all of the facts in front of me regarding what actually occurred in this tweet incident, it's difficult for me to state with certainty who crossed the line. Regardless of the forum in which the sentence was presented, it could have been written better. In my opinion, the school only addressed part of the problem by suspending the student. If schools feels obligated to take corrective action against students when students aren't seated within their hallowed halls, then schools should not limit themselves to only those acts, actions or activities they feel will bring shame upon their institution. In this case, they also could have taken the student aside to discuss what was written and demonstrate options available to help express the idea in a more grammatically fundamental manner.

Because the education process is a discipline as much as the discipline process is an education.

Siri-ously Flawed

A New York man filed a class action lawsuit against Apple because the Siri program on his iPhone didn't respond to him the way the product was advertised on television. Oh, what a shock! A product doesn't perform or look as advertised.

For those unfamiliar with Siri, it is a speech-recognition computer application built into Apple's iPhone 4s that responds to your questions or commands. I am not qualified to analyze the technical operation of the application's programming, so in short...you speak to Siri, and Siri speaks back. Albeit, not always flawlessly. According to reports, the plaintiff "realized that Siri was not performing as advertised" shortly after he purchased it. An example stated when Siri was asked for "directions to a certain place, or to locate a store, Siri either did not understand what Plaintiff was asking, or, after a very long wait time, responded with the wrong answer." Guys, feel free to insert your wife/girlfriend comment or joke now. Ladies,...yeah, pay no attention to us.

In my opinion, I don't think the man has a case. Apple tells customers right up front Siri is a Beta program, meaning it's still in development, that there may be bugs to be worked out. Even if it was close to being whatever comes after Beta, there's no way Siri is going to be spot-on accurate. It's not going to catch every word coming out of every mouth right off the bat. Linguists estimate there are something like 25-50 dialects of English spoken in the U.S., and I'd bet half of them come just from the east coast alone. I worked for 6 months with a guy from Boston. It took me five to ten minutes listening to him speak every day so I could reasonably understand him the other eight to ten hours we were together, so I can see a computer having issues. The other reason I don't think the guy has a case is because he believed what he saw in a commercial, and the commercial had a disclaimer.

Disclaimers are the "I-told-you-so" defense that companies use to get around false or misleading advertisements. They need these because commercials are bullshit. The fundamental nature of advertising is to get you to want what they're selling. Companies have roughly 30 seconds to make you believe their product is great. If I asked you to tell me how great you are in 30 seconds, I bet half of what you tell me would be bullshit, too. So to make the most of their time, advertisers embellish. And you can't spell embellish without the letters L-I-E. Advertisers have to cram as much puffy, fluffy, feel-good crap into such a short span of time that there's no way all of it can be true. But there are some people out there, and apparently some of them living in New York, who get all upset and want to sue because they felt they were misled by a commercial. And it's because of them that you can't just watch a commercial, you also have to read along.

Car commercials are a perfect example of this. Watch a company sell a car on T.V. Every time the announcer makes a statement, a disclaimer flashes on the bottom of the screen. "Your actual mileage may vary." "Based on J.D. Power blah, blah, blah." "0% interest for qualified lessees." There's so much reading involved it gets confusing. They ought to just write "Nah, not really" for everything that comes out of their mouths to make it easier for us to keep up. Otherwise, we'll end up going to the dealer to buy a car and they'll say something like, "Sorry, sir, that price was only good for midget transvestites born on February 29." Then the salesman will show us the commercial and we'll scratch our heads and wonder, "Shit, how did I miss that?"

Or there's the hot car zipping across a dry lake bed, rear wheels kicking up the dust as it cuts tracks in the scorched earth. The driver starts making a sweeping turn that becomes a drifting slide. There's the slow motion scene during the overhead helicopter fly-by and you can almost count the tire rotations. On the bottom of the television picture are the words, "Professional driver on closed course." And why do we need this? Because there are people out in fantasy land who don't understand that delivering pizza in your car does not make you a professional driver, nor does the empty Walmart parking lot at two in the morning qualify as a closed course. But even that's not good enough any more. The ad people have included "Do not attempt" because when Johnny wraps his hot car around a light pole the automaker can say, "We warned you not to do it," then settles out of court for less.

When I was a little kid there was one disclaimer and only one: "Batteries not included." That's it. I think every commercial I saw for any toy or game that Milton-Bradley sold, the commercial ended with "...a Milton-Bradley company" and the last thing you heard was "batteries not included." And it was quick, almost an afterthought, but we knew. Even when the commercial was cut short. Sometimes they didn't even get to the "T" in "not" before cutting back to the show. We still knew. So did our parents. We could tell they were paying attention when we found a pack of batteries in our Christmas stockings. That's when us kids got all excited because it meant we were eventually going to open something to put them in.

One of the deleted sequences from the "Rock God" commercial.

Apple included a disclaimer for their commercial stating the sequences in the Siri ad were shortened. Good enough for me. That's them telling me that if I buy their cool phone with this awesome feature it may or may not work the way they're showing it to me. If I buy it and it doesn't work, I'll go back to the store and tell them it doesn't work. I'm tech-tarded, so there's always the possibility that I'm the problem. I would argue that when our plaintiff bought the phone and discovered Siri didn't work "as advertised" he should have taken it back and either asked for assistance to see if he's using it properly, or asked for a refund. If he doesn't get one or the other, then sue. But to come right off the checkout line and go straight to a con man with a bar card...man's only fucking it up for the rest of us because the only thing we're going to get out of this is more shit to read. The guy wasn't traumatized. He's suing for an inconvenience. I think a person with a stutter would have a better case for getting a reasonable accommodation under the Americans with Disabilities Act against voice recognition products than this guy does for false advertising.

We're out of control. We sue for everything, including our own ignorance. How's that work? "Your Honor, I'm suing because I'm stupid, but the Defendant should have known I'm stupid." I would think a person wouldn't want a transcribed court document existing that legally identifies them as being stupid. Or fat. Or short. Or...whatever. But it'll never end. Then again, who knows? Maybe it's a good thing if it doesn't. Maybe we need people dropping writs or injunctions or whatever for the dumb shit so the rest of us can stay focused on the important, day-to-day survival of the species issues. Maybe we need more disclaimers, more definition in our lives. Maybe we need the line between fact and fiction drawn for us with a heavier crayon. Or...maybe we just need an all-encompassing disclaimer that could apply to anything. Just take the best ones out there and put 'em together. Here's the one I'm working on:

Grainiums disclaimer: The opinions expressed by the author are not those of the blog provider or any persons or companies associated with the blog provider. Unauthorized reproduction or retransmission of this blog, in whole or in part, without the expressed written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. Past performance is not an indication of future results. Use only as directed. If you experience an erection lasting longer than four hours, consult a physician.

(*batteries not included)

Words, Part 3: Sense and Sensability

It's not only an admonishment for my blog posts, it's also etched inside my wife's wedding ring.

Blogger's note: "Words" is an ongoing feature in which I take a look at special qualities and misrepresentations of the English language, how much fun it is to play with its words, and why it reigns as one of the hardest languages to master.

By definition, this is a stereotype

used as sarcasm in a satirical form,

which may or may not be humorous

depending on your point of view.

Stereotype - noun; 1. a conventional, formulaic, and oversimplified conception, opinion, or image, 2. one that is regarded as embodying or conforming to a set image or type.


Sarcasm - noun; 1. harsh or bitter derision or irony, 2. a sharply ironical taunt; sneering or cutting remark.


Satire - noun; 1. the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc., 2. a literary composition, in verse or prose, in which human folly and vice are held up to scorn, derision, or ridicule, 3. a literary genre comprising such compositions. 


Hypocrisy - noun; 1. the practice of professing standards, beliefs, etc., contrary to one's real character or actual behavior, esp the pretense of virtue and piety, 2. an act or instance of this.

I previously posted my 25th blog entry, making this my 26th blog post. And that means...nothing. It's like a 51st birthday, which is only notable for meaning you made it past 50. But 25 is a quarter of some sort that people generally identify as a cause for celebration. I could have celebrated my 25th posting on my 25th post, but that's cheating. That's like me someone buying years of service credit toward my their retirement and counting those years as years I they actually worked. To be fair, I posted a true 25. Now I have 24 more posts to justify shortchanging the next 25.

For #26, I'm taking a look back at where I started, not so much at the blog posts themselves but in my style and creative process holding true to what I anticipated them being. There should be no confusion as to what my writing is about. There's a description of what motivates me and influences my writing style in the right hand margin, a sort of mission statement. But before a reader is able to read that or anything I've posted, there's a content warning that has to be accepted before proceeding. Even if the reader doesn't know me personally, he/she gets the "look before you leap" admonishment. 

(You may take a short pause at this time to allow yourself an opportunity to read or re-read the "About Grainiums" side note. Or have someone read it to you.)

So why open with definitions? Because when presenting an opinion, editorial or formulating discussion open for debate, I believe it's important that I let anyone participating know which end of the gun the bullets come out of. As I am also a participant, it's important that I know, too, so I don't accidentally shoot myself. I hold myself accountable to the definitions dictating my actions, and my expectation is that others not only hold me true to that accountability but hold themselves true to it, as well. To that end, my process is a simple one to me: 1) find a topic, hopefully one that's made the transition from common to non sense, 2) establish a basis for my point or counterpoint, 3) present that point via example, satire or sarcasm, and 4) draw a conclusion that is every bit as far to one side as the topic is to the other. Load, aim, fire. The rules I set for employing that process are even simpler: 1) be able to support what I write, 2) be prepared to take my lumps for what I write, and 3) while I may have to make some personal compromises, don't be a hypocrite.

In writing what I do, I set my goal as being like the kid in the story who points at the Emperor and says to the crowd, "He has no clothes on," then goes on to point at the Emperor's dick and asks everyone if they think it's that cold, too. That's important, as it's sometimes the little things that are overlooked when it's the little things that make the biggest statement. Everything that is open for public consumption should also be open for commentary. And when I say everything is open to commentary, that includes me. I have no problem with that. I am just as fallible and affable and full-of-bull as the next person. Granted, some topics tend to be off limits, like special needs kids - not retards, they're entirely different. While I wouldn't poke fun at a special needs kid, I would poke fun at the ridiculousness of the retards who perpetuate the concept that the rest of us shouldn't keep score and that everyone deserves a medal.

I was compelled recently to look in the mirror and ask myself if I had been conforming to the guidelines I'd set for my blog. I asked myself if I thought I'd crossed the line at any point. The honest answer was "sort of" in the sense that I saw myself crossing to an opposing line in order to regain a sense of moral equilibrium. (Picture a ship listing to one side and me going to the opposite side, hoping the ship will level off...and that the ship's captain is not Italian.) Here's an example: I didn't post about this, but the animal activists at PETA filed a lawsuit basically seeking rights for animals based on the 13th Amendment. For those who didn't realize there were any constitutional amendments beyond the First and the Second...surprise! The 13th was the one that abolished slavery - of people - and PETA wanted to apply it to orcas at Sea World. To me, PETA went way past the line of sensibility and was deserving of having their noses rubbed in their shit and told, "No!" So when an organization or an airline or a legal process or an opposition to gay people or opposition among gay people strikes a ridiculous chord, I wanna join the band. I want to play their song in a different key, maybe change the tempo. I want to play Stairway to Heaven with a kazoo.

Meanwhile, back in front of the mirror...did I conform to my rules? Yes, I believe I validate what I write where it needs validating or, at the very least, I support my opinion with an explanation. Yes, I'm prepared to take the criticism that may come from what I write. I welcome it and would enjoy more of it because it tells me what the voices in other peoples' heads are saying, and I'd love to set up a play date between their head voices and mine.


Am I a hypocrite? That's tough to answer. I think asking a person if they're a hypocrite is like asking a person if they're modest. If they say yes, they're immodest because a person who truly is modest can't say they're modest. It's like a nickname...only other people can put that tag on you. So, similar to modesty, you can't answer the hypocrisy question for yourself. Being a hypocrite is one of those things that others tell you you are, and something you generally can only acknowledge after you're told you are one. On the other hand, wherein modesty can be a trait, I believe hypocrisy to be situational, therefore an individual can make an effort to avoid placing him/herself in that position. So my best answer is that I try not to be, which is why I stand prepared to take my lumps. When I write something I put some considerable effort into reading what I wrote several times over and asking if I went too far or if this makes me look like a hypocrite before I post. I also look at how I've reacted to past situations (part of that research I mentioned) to ensure I'm not making room in my mouth for one or both of my feet. They're big. 

So in the reflection of my 25 posts, I'm satisfied that my fly is up and I have matching socks. Yeah, my tie is a little crooked, but overall I think I've maintained a consistent appearance and I find myself looking forward to the next 25 posts with confidence so when I look in the mirror again I'll just need to comb a few hairs down to be presentable. For those of you who have gained enlightenment from what I've presented, you're welcome for the insight. For those who found a chuckle, I thank you for the encouragement. For those who took offense, well, there's that red admonishment button you clicked, so...

I gotta go. Celebration's over, and I've got some writing to do. Besides, I'm hogging the mirror and others need to use it.

A Bad Sunset

Sunset Magazine, the magazine for those "living in the west," issued its February edition which included an article on the 20 best fantasy places to live. There were four categories: Woodsy, Wine Country, Tropical and, for those wanting to move verrrry west, Pacific Rim. Listed in each of the four categories were five towns along with an interview of a family who offer advice to help you make that move "from daily grind to living in paradise." To my surprise-bordering-on-utter-disbelief, Boulder Creek, California, landed one of the five Woodsy spots.

Other than their short, poetic reference, which I reprinted below, Sunset didn't offer any substance in the article to support its picks. I emailed Sunset to ask them what research was involved in their decision-making process. I have received two thank you responses for my inquiry, but no explanation. What they printed in the article was laughable and deserving of criticism. Before I blast them for what they wrote, however, it is only fair that I establish a basis for why I believe they failed.

Even the Boulder Creek bear is brown bagging.

First, before any of you hill people get all up in my ass about stereotyping the Santa Cruz Mountain culture, remember that you stereotype yourself - and do so openly - with every drink you take from your brown-bagged bottle at the bus stop/Probation Department shuttle, with every snide comment you make about people coming "over the hill" and encroaching on your way of life (those would be the people with jobs and money contributing to the tax base and property values), and with every reference you make to living a rugged, throwback lifestyle while your generator runs because another fallen tree took out the power. I am merely acknowledging your opinion of yourself before offering mine, which is open to allowing you to freely insert any grammatically correct form of the word "hypocrite" after the word "you." That said, if anyone in the San Lorenzo valley is offended by criticism, you should stop reading. Or interrupt the person reading this to you.

Let me preface my completely personal spew by stating that I have nothing against the people in the community of Boulder Creek. But other than a mailbox, I don't have much in common with them either. Although I have lived in Boulder Creek for the past two years, I am not of the "mountain folk." I was born and raised over the hill, in the Santa Clara valley, in a culturally diverse, San Francisco bay area suburb where flannel is preferred for use as a bedding material rather than clothing. I live in Boulder Creek only because I married into the mountain environment, the very act a testament to my love for my wife, who was also raised in the same suburban area I was before she moved into the woods some 25 years ago. I would hazard to guess - and why wouldn't I hazard - that like me a large number of the 4,000+ people in Boulder Creek also do most of their "living" in Scotts Valley, Santa Cruz, Los Gatos, and a number of other places where hygiene is a practice and not a greeting to a neighbor named Gene.

Contrary to what I imagine Sunset Magazine believes, Boulder Creek is not a fantasy destination. It's a place to pass through. Granted, I haven't explored the entire town border to border, but excluding a few residential pockets around town, I've found it more rusty than rustic. While there are a couple of knick-knack shops, the town has no particular attraction that would encourage one to stop any longer than it takes at the town's lone stop sign. If your definition of living is similar to mine, it includes having certain amenities related to keeping members of the community in the community. For example, I live close enough to town to take a leisurely stroll for a morning cup of coffee, and would if a) there were places to sit and enjoy it other than curbs and retaining walls and b) if the people sitting on the curbs and retaining walls weren't polluting the air with cigarette and pot smoke. In fact, there's nowhere in town to just sit and relax.

Boulder Creek, Ca, coffee shop                    Auburn, Ca, coffee shop

Even as I write this, I received the February 24th edition of the Press Banner, the local paper, which has a cover photo of a Boulder Creek child enjoying a sunny day at the park...7 miles away in the town of Felton! BC has a park in town, Junction Park, and the people I've seen hanging out there the few times I've gone by make it look like a failed Occupy encampment.

But Sunset Magazine thinks this could be your dream move. And who am I to argue with the experts at Sunset? And they are experts because it says so right on their website. "Sunset is the premier resource for achieving the ultimate Western lifestyle. Our experts focus on travel destinations in the 13 Westerns states, home design outdoor living ideas suited to our region,..." The magazine has been publishing their expertise in pretty much the same manner since the second World War. So here is the magazine article verbatim describing why Boulder Creek landed one of the top five "woodsy" spots:

"Just over the hill from schmancy Woodside, absurdly rural Boulder Creek (and neighbor La Honda) has the open space to keep cyclists, hikers, and horses happy."

Wow! That's some definitive, fact-filled sales pitch. Here's a fact they left out: According to Google Maps, Boulder Creek is about 34 miles from Woodside, or about a one hour drive. That's "just over the hill" the way Hawaii is just a short flight from Los Angeles. And our "neighbor" La Honda is just as far. In fact, at 12 miles and 24 minutes, La Honda is actually "just over the hill" from Woodside. And how about the four families they interviewed who made these fantasy moves? None of them moved to Boulder Creek. Of the four, three of them had businesses that didn't require local commerce to sustain them, and the fourth started a niche bakery, which would die in a place like Boulder Creek because a $3 gluten-free, vegan cupcake doesn't go with chainsaws, cigarettes and liquor. Might help with the pot munchies, but having those folks hang out at your front door while the yeast rises won't entice mom and dad to pull the Lexus over to grab a snack on the way to Santa Cruz. Or the park in Felton. Three of those families also had children, and I would question why you would want to raise your kids in an environment where most parents want them to be able to leave after graduating high school.

Apparently Sunset Magazine feels its reputation is solid enough that they can piss on your leg and make you believe it's actually raining, which in Boulder Creek is a pretty bold feat considering it gets about 48 inches of rain per year. Those climatically challenged pussies living just over the hill in schmancy Woodside get less than 29 inches. So if you want to move to "absurdly rural" Boulder Creek to happily bike, hike or horseback ride as Sunset suggests, you better be happy doing it wet. Otherwise, hold onto your dreams and wait for another sunset.