Today I stopped and took that hand. It belonged to a young man going by the name Tristan who was peddling sponsorships through Children International. Although he was cheerful and enthusiastic, I was a bit disappointed that his wasn’t politically-motivated activism. It’s all fine and good to sponsor children in Zambia, but about Seattle? the state of Washington? these United States?We leave the decisions up to our politicians then complain about the aftermath of doing so as if it’s not our fault. I’m just as guilty as the next person of apathy. So wouldn’t it be great if someone with the enthusiasm of Tristan was working to let our representatives know what our people want and need?
Category Archives: musings
Them’s Fightin’ Words
So, Obama’s Chief of Staff called some of his colleagues “retarded,” and a bunch of other people got mad, most notably, Ms. Palin. Seems it’s not nice to disparage mentally challenged people, even behind closed doors (I’m not disagreeing). But I have to ask, what do his comments have to do with people with learning disabilities specifically? He wasn’t calling them retarded, he was calling his colleagues retarded (or their actions). What does retarded mean? Just like another word I wrote about recently, it means what we want it to mean.
In the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, I find that the definition of the transitive verb retard can be “to slow up especially by preventing or hindering advance or accomplishment : impede.” And in this sense, I do believe it could be said this is exactly what Mr. Emanuel was trying to convey in his weekly strategy meeting. To quote the Wall Street Journal, he “warned [the group] not to alienate lawmakers whose votes would be needed on health care and other top legislative items.” So was he really likening them derisively to people with mental handicap, or was he expressing his opinion that their actions were hindering accomplishment?
I’m going with the latter.
Wanna Shake With That?
I was walking through Westlake this evening, a place where you will no doubt come across people giving opinions and people asking for opinions. On this particular occasion, someone wanted my opinion, stepped forward with his clipboard and with the other extended his hand out in greeting. My initial response was a combination of “I’m not touching a stranger”, “I’ve got places to be”, and “Sorry, dude. I know you’re just doing your thing.”
On the one hand, should we be allowing ourselves to interact with any stranger who vies for our attention? On the other hand, shouldn’t we be able to show kindness to our fellow humans? One could certainly get into trouble taking that hand from some of the people wandering through Westlake. However, how many good experiences are we missing out on by avoiding those few bad ones?
Let Them Have It
It’s only a word. It’s just a jumble of letters with a representative sound. How can something so insignificant as some squiggles on a page (or a screen) cause so much trouble? After all, words can only have the meaning we give them and nothing more. So what’s the big deal about this one? Personally, I could take it or leave it — I have no real use for it myself. That is why I say, let them have it. If it means so much to them, it’s theirs!
Who is “they”, and what is this word? Let me answer the simpler part first: marriage. The first part is not so cut-and-dried, but I have a solution. It seems to me that the people who hold on to this word tightest in our country are, generally-speaking, affiliated with some religious organization. At least they are the ones who seem to be the most invested in keeping this word to themselves, unwilling to share it with those who don’t comply with their ideal. So give it to them.
Let’s collectively define “marriage” as a religious institution, sanctioned by the state, giving those involved in the union all the benefits and responsibilities as a civil union, aka domestic partnership. Let the state decide who can be bound by a civil union, and let each faith decide who can be bound by a marriage. Two birds, one stone.
Listening to most arguments against allowing gay marriage, it seems to me most are faith-based. And this, to me, is just plain ridiculous. I wonder how many straight marriages in the US are between two people with any real religious conviction? Surely, it can’t be all. Can we say for sure that all marriages performed by Elvis impersonators, justices of the peace, or ship captains were performed while invoking the Almighty? I’m sure atheist couples don’t imagine their weddings are under the eyes of God.
However, if it will soothe their souls, let them have ownership of the word marriage. Let’s have a compromise so that all can have the freedom to legally bind themselves to another person. Let everyone else have domestic partnership—it’s got more letters, anyway. (Right now, in Washington State, only same-sex partners and couples with at least one member aged 62 or over can enter into domestic partnerships. How fair is that?)
Revelations
I was struck recently, today in fact, by the beauty of a smile. Not just any smile. A true, genuine, heartfelt smile. The transformative power of that seemingly simple act of distorting one’s face has really knocked my socks off. There are people out there who are pulchritudinous no matter their expression. But even the most loathesome countenance can be turned into the beaming face of an angel with a good laugh.
This may sound hokey, but trust me. Next time you’re contemplative (even if you have to schedule in the time) pay attention to people’s faces. Find one you consider “ugly”, then wait for it. Wait for that expression of joy to spread across that ugly mug, and you will see beauty. And hopefully it will stir a little happiness inside. And everyone is beautiful when they’re happy.
Maybe this cheese is squeezing out of me because I just saw the film Precious, a dirty filthy film about dirty filthy people, and beautiful ones, too (some being the same people, get it?). Some good performances from people whom we are used to seeing in their best light, but here, they are generally not that pretty. Mo’Nique is far from her role on “The Parkers”, and Mariah Carey did not make me vomit – which is surprising since the mere thought of Glitter makes me queasy. I actually didn’t know it was Ms. Carey until the end credits, which is to her credit. [wink] Anyway, it was well done in that it didn’t flog you tirelessly with the tragedy that is the title character. We get to escape with her when things get tough in her fantasies of a better life. Good flick.
There Goes the Neighborhood?
I saw one of my new neighbors today. He’s a young guy with virtually no furniture. I saw him as he returned home from a beer run (and I was coming home with high-fiber cereal in my backpack).
My building has taking a decidedly younger turn of late. When I moved in, all the other tenants had lived here for some time. I was the newbie, and probably also the youngest. Little by little, nearly all those “old timers” has vacated and young – or at least young acting – people have taken their places. There is one hold out, and I’m sure she will be here until her end. (No, I’m talking about myself.)
Anyway, I find it interesting, and wonder if this is indicative of a trend in the neighborhood as a whole.
Cell Phones Off, Please! Enjoy the Films!!!
I remember back in 1997, seeing Lost Highway at the Angelika at the midnight showing on opening night. The film is, in a lot of parts, quiet – long stretches of silence or near silence throughout. It was an amazing experience to be in a full movie theatre – in New York City especially – where no one made a sound. The audience as a whole was totally into the film and respected the silence. It was beautiful.
I had a similar experience five years earlier at a preview screening of Dracula at a nice midtown theatre. Not a particularly quiet movie, but still the audience did not detract from it by whispering, crinkling candy wrappers, or letting their cell phones ring (were cell phones even a big thing in ’92? There definitely wasn’t texting yet). We were allowed by the silent audience to make it a private experience while also sharing it with a couple hundred fellow filmgoers. This was in direct contrast to my 2nd viewing a week later at a multiplex in the East Village where there was a more typical NYC movie crowd. They laughed outloud at the cheesy parts, talked back to the characters on screen. . . And I cannot say it wasn’t enjoyable also, just in a completely different way. Still, I’m glad I saw it first with the quiet crowd.
Yesterday I completed my second week of films at the 35th annual SIFF festival. In between films, I overheard a conversation about the change in the audience “consideration”. (I think this may have been a general statement about film audiences, stemming from a direct observation of the SIFF audiences.) Every year, audiences are asked to turn off phones and beepers, a couple years they added “anything that lights up, including watches”, and this year they’ve added “no texting”. Despite these requests, people still pull out their phones mid-movie. I sometimes ask myself: Do people really need to be told not to text during a movie? And the answer is Yes, yes they do.
Last week I watched Small Crime at Uptown Cinema. It was a cute little comedy set in Cyprus. Apparently the female half of a newlywed couple sitting in front of me was from that part of the world and had extensive knowledge to share with her other half. Throughout the entire film, she was offering little tidbits to him which I’m sure were interesting. I couldn’t actually hear what she was saying, but considering the subtitles floated just above their heads, I sure did notice. It was quite distracting, but not wanting to distract anyone else, I refrained from saying anything to them. I did kick her chair a couple times “on accident”. To them I say, if you want to discuss it as you watch it – rent it and stay home!
There have been a couple films in which I find myself in serious need of a potty break. I sit there, trying not to squirm, trying to figure out if I can hold out ’til the end, or if I should just make a break for it. I really don’t like getting up in the middle of a film, but when Nature calls . . . So I can empathize with other people who are wondering “how much time has already passed?” and “how much longer until the credits roll?” Sometimes it’s a very helpful piece of information, sometimes it just eases an anxious mind. To these people I say – Wear a watch. Timex makes a really affordable white-face analog time piece that can be read in the light of most films, without even having to turn on the Indiglo. There is absolutely no reason you need to pull out a cell phone and light up the entire row just to find out what time it is. (You know what time the film started, take a guess!)
There is also no reason to have your phone on at all. If you really anticipate that someone might call or text you and cannot wait up to 2 hours for a reply, you really should consider renting a movie and staying at home. That way, if that emergency does take place, you can stop the film and resume it later, after the crisis has been averted. In this way, you are not annoying your fellow movie watchers, and you don’t have to miss the film. It’s a win-win situation.
The overheard conversation mentioned the more frequent home viewing as a cause for this type of inconsiderate behavior. I think there is more to it. As we become more addicted to our devices which connect us to other parts of the globe, we become less aware of our very immediate surroundings. If it weren’t a problem, we wouldn’t see signs at the coffee bar asking customers to refrain from cell phone usage while they are in line. Do people really need to be told to be more present in their immediate interactions with their fellow humans? Yes, yes they do. Will they listen? Hold on, I’ve got to take this call . . . .