We Are a Terrible People

We make frozen food products that contain 121% of our daily value of cholesterol.

We import play things made of poison.

We buy things we cannot afford.

We have children we cannot afford.

We put tiaras on our toddlers, then watch them turn into teen moms.

We want everything we are entitled to, until we have to pay for it.

We paralyze our face muscles on purpose.

We fabricate reasons for war.

We market cosmetics to our children.

We give guns to drug dealers intentionally.

We preach family values while we cheat on our spouses.

We deny equal rights.

We treat the cancer of inmates who are sentenced to death.

We project images of impossibly perfect women, everywhere.

We pay coaches and athletes enormous sums of guaranteed money regardless of their ability to do their "jobs."

We allow 7 year olds to have cell phones.

We sell wiener drugs on TV.

We keep ineffective teachers on the job.

We lie to get votes.

Yet, somehow, we are not without hope.

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Magic

Mr. Clean Magic Eraser (MCME) is unbelievable. It is seriously the BEST cleaning product. Ever. I have no idea what type of chemical makeup is required to produce these little rectangular giftlets from heaven, and I don't think I really want to know. Ignorance is bliss for me on this one, but I kinda feel like they are made of something so potent that if I clean my kitchen sink with them 9 more times, it will completely disappear.

If MCME came out in the 50s I think its impact on the liberation of women would be greater than that of the birth control pill. It saves so much time and makes cleaning so easy that I started thinking, "What if there were products like this for other aspects of life?" The potential applications are infinite:

MEDICAL - Mr...NO!...DR. Clean's Cancer Eraser, Dr. Clean's High Blood Pressure Eraser, Dr. Clean's AIDS Eraser. Slogan: "Cure any disease with ease" Okay, so maybe Bono would have one less cause to carry on about, but I'm sure he'll find at least 2 more in its place.

SOCIAL - Mr. Clean's Crackhead Eraser "Savin Yo Life by Erasin'the Pipe". Mr. Clean's Teen Pregnancy Eraser - now with STD blocking power! Come to think of it, this may already be available at Planned Parenthood.

POLITICAL - Mr. Clean's Rhetoric Eraser. "Say Your Goodbyes to Election Year Lies"

PERSONAL - Mr. Clean's (Insert Whatever you Don't like About Yourself Here) Eraser. Anyone could improve upon anything they want with swipe of a wannabe white sponge thing! I think I might have a business idea growing here. I mean - if there are people out there who honestly believe that you can lose weight by eating chocolate, would it really be such a stretch to expect these same people to believe you can delete a dumpy ass with a little scrub a dub dub?

Just thinking...

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How it Went

Okay, so this is the follow up blog on how "Operation Downgrade" went. I'm pleased to report that over the course of the week I was able to achieve a higher level of personal awareness that served as a reminder that I can be better.

If it were a strictly pass/fail grading system, the results would be as follows:

1. No computer use at home - FAIL
2. No facebook. At all. From any computer. Anywhere. - PASS
3. Personal email account may be checked no more than ONCE per day - PASS
4. No TV at home - FAIL
5. No ipod - FAIL
6. No text messaging - FAIL
7. Cell phone can only be used when I am at home (to simulate the good 'ole days of land lines). - FAIL
8. AM/FM radio is permitted - N/A
9. CDs are permitted - N/A

Fortunately for the sake of my self esteem, life is generally not a pass/fail system. Instead, the space between disaster and perfection is filled with miles and miles of mediocrity into which we can fall. And so we have the much more applicable A-F grading system:

1. No computer use at home: B+. I logged on once to pay some bills and balance the checkbook. Brendan logged on to learn how to replace a belt in his car and order the necessary replacement part.

2. No facebook. At all. From any computer. Anywhere: A+

3. Personal email account may be checked no more than ONCE per day: A+

4. No TV at home: C. Completely successful for the first part of the week. We cheated for game 7 of NBA Finals, which opened the door for full and regular use of the TV on Saturday.

5. No ipod: B-. Didn't use the ipod all week, but full and regular use resumed on Saturday.

6. No text messaging: A. I sent (1) text in response to a text from the people we were meeting for dinner on day 6.

7. Cell phone can only be used when I am at home (to simulate the good 'ole days of land lines): C-. This one was probably the hardest for me to get used to. I took a couple of work related calls when I was in the car, and on Day 3 I forgot and called my dad while driving to work. Full and regular cell phone use resumed on Sunday.

So it looks like I had about a B average overall. Not bad.

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Operation Downgrade

In search of greater peace, happiness, harmony, and understanding, I plan to launch a one week experiment starting Monday 6.14. Basically, I'm looking to downgrade our household use of technology in the hopes of strengthening our being.

Here are the house rules:

1. No computer use at home
2. No facebook. At all. From any computer. Anywhere.
3. Personal email account may be checked no more than ONCE per day
4. No TV at home
5. No ipod
6. No text messaging
7. Cell phone can only be used when I am at home (to simulate the good 'ole days of land lines).
8. AM/FM radio is permitted
9. CDs are permitted

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11.21.9

Today I got to thinking that I just may be a bit more stubborn than I previously thought. Only on principle though.

Thanksgiving's coming up. I can't look at a pre-cooked turkey with out getting really sad. Once it's golden brown and crispy with bacon on it's breast though, all bets are off.

Sometimes I imagine how much better the world would be if everyone walked around with a solid 3 beer buzz.

Basha's is going out of business because it sucks. The prices are too high, and the expiration dates are almost always tomorrow.

Working for half of my Saturday really makes me appreciate the rest of my weekend.

Finding new music is awesome.

Making new music is awesomer.

I'm finally getting over the fact that my kids will consider the Jim Carrey version of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" the "real" one. I'm almost even ready to let them see it.

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Kindergarten

Today marks the end to the second week of Kindergarten for Keira. Here is a short examination of some of the differences between her kindergarten experience and my own.

On the eve of the first day my mom cried in disbelief at how big I'd gotten so quickly. I neither cried the same, nor any, tears for Keira.

Keira wore an adorable brightly colored sparkley shirt with jean shorts and sparkley shoes. I wore a grey dress that had a few pink flowers on it.

My first day of Kindergarten was the first day I set foot in a classroom. Keira had completed 2 years of education before her first day of Kindergarten.

On my first day I was ahead of the game because I knew my letters. Keira has been reading since she was 3 and a half.

My kindergarten teacher played the piano in the classroom. Keira's does not.

I peed my pants in kindergarten. Time will tell on this one for Keira.

In my kindergarten class everyone was a white kid. In her class, Keira is a minority.

We both smiled for our first day pictures. Keira's was one of confident accomplishment, mine was one of enthusiastic inexperience.

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So Much for Progress

The Harvard professor who got harassed by the cops when they responded to a 911 call about a possible break in shouldn't be pissed at the cops. He should be pissed at his neighbor who didn't recognize him and called the cops. The cops were just responding. Maybe they were jerky to him when they got there (which I do not condone), but they wouldn't be there if someone else didn't call in thinking he was up to no good. And it's not like the neighbor called the cops because he was sitting on his porch relaxing and reading a book. He was trying to wedge open a door. Which looks a hell of a lot like breaking in to a spying neighbor who lacks the balls to hollar across the street, "Hey Henry...is that you?"

I'm gonna go on a limb and say it doesn't really matter though because if the cops didn't respond to the call and someone did in fact break in to the professors home, he would probably say that cops are racist because they wouldn't respond to a call in a black neighborhood.

The further we come, the longer we have to go.

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