2006 - An Epilogue

At the end of a year, we are compelled to place parentheses around the previous 365 days and draw conclusions about our experiences therein. The year for me began as sluggish as it is not ending. I set out with a few goals in 2006, not "New Year's Resolutions" but actual goals committed to paper. Sadly, that paper was lost in February; I believe my cat was involved.

A goal notwithstanding this epistolary endeavor is not an attempt to bring down to a specific time or date any events of the year. I shall be presenting the year's account in a manner that is driven by topic, rather than chronology. I also must admit that I'm keeping this rather personal, and any comments are more than welcomed, they are appreciated.

The main goal of the year was to purchase a home. December 27, 2006, is the date that goal reaches its fruition. The homeownership goal is really just a subsidiary of a larger overall goal of life improvement. Such improvements consist of continuing education; learning one or two languages (Italian is now, German is next); repairing my credit situation; gaining more respect of myself and my previous accomplishments; meeting new and interesting people; improving my retirement planning; and so on. This is a list not unlike many people I'm sure you know. It may even be similar to your own.

The past two months have been somewhat trying for me. I began to benchmark my own life against others and felt like a bit of a failure. Not a total failure, just in the sense of some wasted opportunities in life. Many of the people I've met recently are younger and very accomplished. Opportunities such as finishing college; traveling; and self-motivated health awareness; are some of the areas where I felt deficient. I spent at least a week in a state of melancholic torpor until something in me "snapped". I realized what I had actually accomplished, and what its value was in my life.

My greatest "accomplishment" is the wonderful gift of friendship I have surrounding me. I have several amazingly loyal, dedicated, trustworthy, and crazy friends. These friendships, as all relationships, take hard work and dedication. I must be doing something right to have such quality people to call my friends. Also, I have found that when meeting people that are well accomplished, they generally find me interesting. This always amused me, as I can't imagine my life being interesting to people who have seen the world, or have had moments of fame or fortune, moments I have yet to know. However, therein is my greatest talent, that of being interesting. Well, I guess being interesting and making people laugh. Apparently, I'm quite the comedian, as I’m often told. I'm not yet certain what this means, but I'm sure I'll know soon enough.

I digress, now back to my state of torpor. When I woke up from this nightmarish time, I began charging through the list of unaccomplished goals from the beginning of 2006. Get ready for this, as it's all true. In less than a month I found, financed, and shall close on my home purchase; I began learning Italian (I cannot pepper this text with Italian phrases as I'm too new at it); and have really learned a great deal about myself through self-examination and also through many of the new people I've met.

The biggest lesson for the year can be summated in the old adage "Actions speak louder than words". This phrase is simple, yet one of the greatest truths within itself. The words of the axiom are useless without life's actions to drive the message home. One of the most obvious areas of life where this is true involves our interactions with others. I've met some people this year who haven't been true to their words. In these cases, actions were screaming at me, not simply speaking louder that their verbal counterparts. Never discount others and never allow those who do to be part of your life. (This is one lesson I cannot impress enough!)

I realize elsewhere in the world much has transpired. I cannot distance myself from the facts, but I needn't let them worry me now. I spent a good portion of this year lamenting the horrors and atrocities heard and read daily in the news. I also experienced many trying moments for members of my extended family, lamenting others misery, while lamenting my current place in life. January through late November was not my favorite part of 2006; in fact, was quite ghastly. I have placed interior parentheses around these months and now label them gone but not forgotten.

The month of December has truly been a winner. I've still let some people disappoint me, but I no longer feel disappointed in myself. I have complete control over how I'll allow others to impact my attitude. Life is entirely a 50-50 game of chance with every decision, no matter how minute a gamble for the future. I shall henceforth make every decision where possible and appropriate without impulse, with forethought, and with emphasis on quality and integrity. This will be especially important when dealing with others who wish to enter my life.

Looking forward to 2007 I see hope. I feel the year will be filled with the fruits of my convictions. I suppose it took me a bit longer to leap out of my own spiritual and moral adolescence such that I have a clear direction of how my future shall look. I see myself as the engineer of a very heavy train, the locomotive is fully functional, though a little rusty; the trains consist of several cars, carrying heavy baggage. The cartage is also old and musty. As I steam forward there are several stops. At each stop I leave behind the heavier and older cars, leaving behind the old baggage, and retrieve empty cars for new luggage. There is one car, however, I never removed it from this train. That car is the passenger car, for it carries the most necessary cargo: my friends, my family, and my own belief that life is only getting better from here.

RUN, HIDE, BE VERY AFRAID

I have just finished reading some readers' comments on a story done by Time Magazine regarding the liberty vs. security debate. The common theme of the readers involves the current tension between the government's necessity of maintaining certain secrets in the name of national security, and the implied duty of the news media to report facts and inform the public. This is truly a debate that requires much deeper analysis than the current blithering of loudmouth and unprincipled politicians and their fear "mongering".

I cannot agree with any media outlet divulging secret information, even if it is passed on the them. However, our current "state of war" in not unlike that of Orwell's "1984", in which the country is in a constant state of war against an elusive enemy. This "gray area" is where we are now. The major difference between reality and fiction is that a serious threat exists. The real debate is over how much of our freedom and privacy we are willing to relinquish in order to "keep tabs" on those that would bring the innocent harm.

I want to offer a simple analogy. Let's take the simple case of a crime ridden area of a city or town. A frustrated population complains about the crime and the news media howls. Businesses suffer, lives are lost, and fear is rampant among the residents. A beleaguered Mayor may decide to impose a curfew on certain people (perhaps an age group identified as being the cause of most of the strife). The Mayor may also institute a "zero-tolerance" policy on such "horrible acts" as loitering. Now you have a fearful population feeling placated because the "government" has acted. However, while little Timmy cannot walk home from a visit to his grandmother after 10:00 pm, for example, without the threat of being cuffed and thrown in jail; the criminals that have no real fear of order and law are still free to roam about, only now in the shadows. The crime subsides briefly, but soon the limelight is off the issue and the resources sent to enforce these policies are deployed elsewhere. This is an infantile example of my point in which citizens are willing to sacrifice their own freedom and comfort for an "alleged" sense of calm and security. This is not much different than our color coded system of terror threat that was all the rage only a few years ago.

It is important that we don't minimize the threat of a terrorist attack by actually comparing it to neighborhood crime. However, the point of the preceding example is the culture of fear that is bred by politicians and lack of personal accountability and action on the part of our government. This Country was founded on people who stood up to their fears. The signers of the Declaration of Independence, by there very concurrence, were actually committing treason against their "Mother England". Like today, this was punishable by death. In the words of Edward Abbey "A patriot must be ready to defend his country against his government". America's founders had adopted Mr. Abbey's philosophy. Today, the overall population seems to have fallen blindly behind an administration that has used fear as it tactic for driving public policy.

The real thing to fear is complacency. That complacency that allows us to sacrifice our privacy, that disallows voice of dissent, that permits the govenment, our government, to stampede over the Constitution for alleged isecurity. They claim they can make our reasons for fear disappear. Almost everywhere you look this administration loves fear. Several examples for digestion: "If gays marry, families will fall apart"; "If we don't fix Social Security, it will implode"; "If we cannot collect data from your (pick one: phone records, medical history, library records, financial transactions) than the terrorists will win". This complacency also has allowed all three branches of government to bolster corporate protection while diminishing the ability of consumers and victims to air their grievances. This is vital, as it demonstrates who is really "pulling the strings". One example, "The health care crisis is due to medical malpractice lawsuits". This statement is made so simple, yet it is far more complex than hearing George "The Village Idiot" Bush spew it from his wretched mouth. I won't go into this issue, but just know that behind every lie that this administration has proffered, someone profits, and profits well. If you want to learn the truth about the cost of complacency, just follow the money trail.

Just take the time to see who benefits from the actions of government (ie. War benefits Halliburton; catastrophe benefits big oil). Nothing changes in politics unless someone at the top will profit. The best way for our government to manipulate the people is through fear; fear that is financed care of corporations and very wealthy donors.

I'll leave you with one more quote from Adam Michnik, "As a rule, dictatorships guarantee safe streets and terror of the doorbell. In democracy the streets may be unsafe after dark, but the most likely visitor in the early hours will be the milkman." Let us not end up fearing the milkman.

A Break from The Soap Box: Uncle Filthy Goes Home

Dateline: Saturday, April 1, 2006 I spent today in Philadelphia with my friend, Eric. We did something we haven't done in years. Took a completely spontaneous trip. We had originally planned on going to the Jersey Shore to saunter about; however, time and fate decided we should simply go to Philadelphia. Usually I would damn fate for its cruetly. However, yesterday fate was a kind and gentle beast; giving Eric and I a great day and good memories.

One of the things that Eric really wanted to do was get a real Philadelphia cheesesteak at Geno's and/or Pat's "The King of Steaks" in South Philadelphia. MMMMM Cheesesteaks sez the Homer Simpson in me... ~(_8^(I).

We arrived in Philadelphia sometime around 2:30 and went to Uncle's, a small and intimate bar on Locust Street in Center City Philadelhpia's "gayborhood". We had a few drinks and enjoyed the company of the congenial older chaps at the bar. After our drinks we proceeded to South Philly for our gastronomic delights.

Geno's would be our first choice, since the line was shorter. We finally ordered our steak, with cheese and friend onions. Then, as we were eating them, we decided to wait in line at Pat's and have another; thereby giving us an opportunity to find our favorite. We would order the exact same sandwich, with the exception that is was with Cheese Wiz, and "wit", which apparently means with onions at Pat's.

Herewith a brief caveat, the boys in South Philly are just too damned hot for their own good. Now back to the other, edible meat. Hands down, Pat's was truly our favorite. One, the meat was sliced thinner and the service at Pat's was abrupt and gruff, as should be in such a place. The important thing was the lines moved quickly, the food was good and we had a great time.

We finished our night by returning to Uncle's then heading to Mahogany on Walnut Street. We enjoyed our requisite poisons and then proceeded to head home. Another great night in the City of Brotherly Love. We laughed more than we have in quite some time.... Now I'm looking forward to my next visit.

PHILADELPHIA UNDER SIEGE!

Prologue: This was written in the year 2000 during the Republican National Convention. My knowledge and concern of social issues has changed greatly since then. I do, however, believe this prose to speak of the unfortunate disconnect that existed between those groups who were fighting for social change against the well organized neo-con death cult that has now seized our country and the world. Today I would more tip my hat in gratitude toward those brave enough to speak loudly for what is right than view them through the eyes of the tired office worker I was in 2000. Now on to: PHILADELPHIA UNDER SIEGE: The Great Show at City Hall At last they arrive, charging in upon many a mighty steed, with hoisted banners and raised fists they march on to "stir the shit storm" and create general pandemonium and havoc during the Republican National Convention. I refer to the protesters, rabble-rousers and assortment of other mountebanks that have set up temporary camp around City Hall in Philadelphia. These charlatans are the queerest of individuals I have ever witnessed. There was the anti-abortion group, replete with images upon posters of aborted fetuses, which seemed to offend PETA and other animal rights activists because of their close resemblance to red meat. Another group went about wearing costumes constructed of cardboard that appeared as bastardized versions of deer or moose. A convertible Mustang was driving around and within it was a bizarre trio of foppish persons. They managed to meander through the cadre of protesters, with two people, sitting upon the top of the back seat, wearing what appeared to be Teletubbies regalia, or maybe they were pink rabbits. In the air was a dreadful cacophony as provided by a variety of brusque, pear shaped women, excuse me, womyn, shouting their grievances with the benefit of megaphones. Co-existing was the generous competition of sound provided by the police vehicles circling this "encampment". The Philadelphia police provided many prison buses to help "motivate" the crowd to be peaceful. What the presence of the buses and vans did accomplish, however, was the abhorrent frustration of vehicular and pedestrian traffic. The odors in the air were most unpleasant. There was the no-so-subtle combination of body odor provided by many protesters and assembled vagrants; the carbon monoxide being spewed from the aforementioned vehicles; the sewers boiling over in the summer heat; and, as if to add spice to my olfactory barrage, the fecal matter of the dozens of horses of the mounted police. This gathering, not being enough to satisfy the city's desire to create a quandary of a business day, were greeted by Wawa foods. They were kind enough to be offering pieces of a free hoagie that was baking in the sun - this was yet another odor to contend with. I cannot imaging anything more appalling than the thought of warm mayonnaise on a multi-foot long sandwich with the benefit of solar heating. The pigs were definitely at the trough, however, grasping every tiny morsel of the fetid, grotesque amalgam of fatty, sodium-rich meats; condiments, and bread. The vendor was kind enough to provide many employees to serve their sordid fare. The employees became a bit impatient, or perhaps frightened, and began casting bags of chips and soft pretzels into the crowd. Fortunately they had the sense to not cast about mustard packs. Although I do believe that some of the PETA folks absconded with the ketchup supply to throw upon anyone partaking of the hoagie, or worse, wearing an animal product. I am seated in a cab during this grand scene. My cab has been motionless for several minutes and my fare keeps rising. The police have now decided to drive their vehicles around the crowd in a circular formation, as if vultures seeking their prey. This display of vehicular prowess and police enforcement has caused and even great traffic snarl, which I fear shall not end upon my departure from Philadelphia this evening. Finally, in frustration, I present the driver his fare, plus a modest tip, and decide to alight immediately and continue my journey on foot. I regretted this decision since the humidity and traffic were unbearable. I nevertheless made it back to the office with my sanity intact. I am back at the office now. The man who delivers the FedEx packages has just deposited his cartage and is telling me about the protesters' migration south along Broad Street. They are marching, still with their fists and banners held high on their way to the First Union Center, where the Republicans have been engaged in their political machinations. One can only imagine the outcome of the events today. Thousands of tired, forlorn protectors off all that is politically correct will be home, or unfortunately incarcerated, feeling a sense of accomplishment. While back in the city, the haughty and well-fed Republicans settle down for an after dinner cognac and a cigar. The peace is again restored and Philadelphia can rest for another evening. Then, there's always tomorrow.

Confessions of a Wholesale Club (Food) Junkie

    "I stand alone, I am the cheese." This is my muse as I stand in BJ's Wholesale Club sizing up the two-pound smoked Gouda and one-and-a-half-pound block of feta with basil and sun-dried tomato while I toss them into the large, red, plastic shopping cart alongside the three-pound bleu cheese; a ten-pound bag of Cat Chow and a twenty-pound tub of kitty litter. 

    There is at home just my partner, my cat, and I, yet I find it impossible to resist the lure of shopping in bulk. In my freezer at home are two five-pound whole chickens, a nine-pound duck, and several multi-pound hunks of porcine flesh from my previous trip here just five days hence.

    I think to myself, while placing the thirty-six-roll pack of toilet tissue in the cart, that I should stock up on some bacon and maybe a leg of lamb. En route to the meat section of this mammoth shopping Mecca, I pass and collect several eight-pack cartons of various canned vegetables and soups, several three-pack sets of my favorite pasta sauces, and eight pounds of pasta. This is naturally followed by a twenty-ounce container of olive oil. The three-pound bag of "Hint of Lime" tortilla chips wouldn't be complete without the twenty-four-ounce jars of both salsa and queso dip.

    I have no plans for any of these purchases, but find it hard, nay impossible, to resist such temptation. Maybe, I think to myself, I may decide to have a party and make a mental note to stop at the nearby wine shop for a few cases of wine. 

    I arrive at the meat section, my overloaded cart straining against the one uncooperative wheel that drags aggressively along the linoleum floor. I take note of the aisles I've passed along the way for other things I may need. Standing among the shrink-wrapped carnage I gaze with wonder and gluttonous admiration at the carnivorous splendor that lies before me. Like a ravenous jackal, and with little thought to unpaid bills at home, I toss a twelve-pound pack of assorted cuts of beef into the cart along with a five-pound leg of lamb, six pounds of bacon, and a seven-pound goose I think I'd like to prepare someday. 

    I've now left my earthly body and am envisioning the great fete I will prepare for my friends. My abode will be well decorated with all the gourmet accouterments, and a fine collection of classical music will set the mood. I shall prepare a complete brunch, with champagne (I add this to my liquor store list). I'll need assorted mustards and crackers; fruits and bread; pate and so much more that I add to the list. Fortunately, I can procure these, en masse, right here at BJ's along with the two-pound sharp aged Wisconsin cheddar and one-pound wedge of Stilton I meant to pick up earlier. A two-pound container of mixed nuts and also some pistachios will be well received. They find their home next to the eight-pack of imported mustard already in the cart. 

    I see myself raising my glass in a toast to my good friends, for their long life, good health, and, most of all, hearty appetites. I urge all my attendees to enjoy the bountiful feast that has been prepared in their honor. Truthfully, I'm not certain when I'll have such a soiree as most of my friends are on the busiest of schedules, and I have a lengthy commute to and from work, which affords me little time to prepare the things I love so much to buy, but I just know I shall, someday. 

    In the end, I present my goods upon the black, sticky, rubber conveyor belt and pay the three hundred plus dollars to the cashier. Struggling with my provisions to my car, I stuff the trunk and back seat with my bounty, being careful to leave room for the spirits that I shall purchase on the way home. 

    Upon arrival at my abode, my partner spends several minutes shaking his head in disbelief. I, in turn, spend the next thirty minutes rearranging the refrigerator and kitchen cabinets to accommodate the edible newcomers. Reluctantly, I must discard my last journey's supply of uneaten veggie chips, some freezer-burned Italian sausage, an assortment of soggy herbs and vegetables; and some various cheese products which have come to resemble a medical testing laboratory. 

    My freezer is packed to capacity as I separate my meat purchases into smaller freezer storage bags, I wonder how it will all fit. Knowing I cannot possibly pack all my purchases in the proper kitchen receptacles, I phone a friend and offer him some of my food bounties, informing him I shall stop by his place for a visit after I'm finished unpacking. He tells me he needs to go to Target and then Home Depot and I agree to drive us there. I am looking forward to it since I need to pick up a few things. TRUE STORY