Of question and answers

In connection with a few recent conversations with Trueblat and other Board writers, I’ve been thinking a lot about how the Board answers questions. This isn’t too surprising; my habitual checking of the Board while I am within access of the Internet borders on obsessive-compulsive behavior. (I actually just checked the inbox after writing that last sentence.) But I’ve been thinking about the quality of answers we give and how our system works. My introspection started with a simple question about how some people believe that Jesus was black. I support their right to believe that just as ardently as I support my right to insist they are dead wrong. In this case, I think most people would agree that I am right. The day that question posted, a reader signing as “Dumbfounded” wrote to me and said my response was “amazingly ignorant and stupid,” and that “Jew” wasn’t a race or ethnicity.

Now let’s be honest: calling someone “amazingly ignorant and stupid” isn’t the best way to start intelligent discourse. I’ve had a few similar experiences in the past, and I usually get all riled up and go write something foolhardy and rude. I have since learned that the best way to deal with negative comments like that is to set them aside and come back to them when I’m not mad anymore. Sometimes I write a scathing remark as part of the cathartic process and then change it for the real response. That was what I did this time, and I think my eventual response wasn’t too bad. I took a few cheap shots at the guy, but it was more or less civil. My first response was much more immediately gratifying, and even Thor agreed that it was a great answer. But I knew I would inevitably regret it in the long run, so I was more pleased with my second response. (What I refuse to dispute was whether or not I was correct. I am right: Jewish can refer to religion, race, or ethnicity.)

Tempers apparently cooled on both sides, and a day or two later a reader named “David” wrote in. He indicated that he was “Dumbfounded” and meant no disrespect by his comment. (Why he called me “amazingly ignorant and stupid” when he meant to disrespect, I do not know. But we were both being a little rash, so we’ll let it slide.) David said he was Jewish, and proceeded to prove himself much more intelligent and calm than I had previously thought him to be. He did whine a little bit about how LDS people and Jewish people should treat each other better, which is completely irrelevant, but everyone does that (including myself) so I didn’t mind that part. I wrote back and reasserted my position and thanked him for his response. It wasn’t necessarily contrite, but it was easier to respond to than the first attack.

The debate over ethnicity and race continued, but I kept thinking about how I handled the criticism. I didn’t do a perfect job, but I’d like to think I handled it better than I have in the past. Probably the worst incident involved a case where someone gave me some incorrect information about satellite dishes and the question asker wrote me back demanding a better answer. He was none too polite about it, so I got mad and wrote some shoddy response. (I will not post a link to that question; it’s too embarrassing and it happened years ago, when I was a new writer.) The answer somehow got past the then-editor, and it posted before I could rescind it. I have since regretted the remark terribly, so I really try to be thoughtful and deliberate with my answer, especially those in response to criticism.

Everyone likes to shoot off a snarky remark. It’s fun, it’s witty, and it gets some laughs. Even professional writers fall victim to this tendency (Maureen Dowd of the New York Times comes to mind). But all too often I wish I could take such statements back after I’ve said them. One of my favorite writers in the zinger category is Saurus (I probably should say “was Saurus”, but he still lives on in my memory). That man has a way with words. I still sneak over to The West Desk every once in a while to see what superbly crafted jabs he has taken at people. That kind of answer represents the 100 Hour Board as it used to be. Saurus is one of the old guard, and I don’t know if he every entirely bought into the new user-friendly Board. We’re more closely connected with BYUSA now. We’re more warm and fuzzy rather than quirky and witty. I can’t help but feel that we’ve lost something that made the Board wonderful. But at the same time, I don’t want the Board to drown in smart-mouth responses with no content or substance. It’s so easy to fire off a quick response that dances around the heart of a question. What is more difficult is charging in and going the extra mile. The really good writers—Misaneroth, Ambrosia, etc.—are the ones that provide completely satisfying answers along with their wit. That’s never been my gift; I inject too much opinion and not enough answer most of the time. I guess that’s the direction the Board is headed in. This whole semester has been a non-stop stream of questions that might perhaps be better answered by Dear Abby or someone’s bishop. Even the political questions have gotten bogged down in opinion. (I include myself in the guilty party.)

I guess the issue of how the Board answers questions is direction related to the direction the Board is moving in. The other day I was talking to Balthazar about the good old days, back when we both joined the Board. It was new and fun and we felt like we were part of a cool little counter-culture movement. We talked about how much things have changed since we were brought on board. Even though we miss some of the fun things the Board used to do, I think both of us agree that the New Board is bigger and better. The readership has multiplied, the writers interact a lot more than they used to, and hopefully the new site will offer a more involved experience for readers and fans. I wonder if we’re still as helpful as we used to be. I’d like to think that we’re still useful and intriguing.

Balthazar is graduating this semester and I won’t be around much longer either. Like Saurus, the old guard writers will retire and the new generation will have to step up to the plate. It’s hard for me to imagine a Board run by the new kids, but I’m sure they’ll rise to the challenge. We’ve all got plenty of opinions and smart remarks; ultimately, the challenge is to provide enough substance to make the commentary. People chuckle at the sarcasm but they keep coming back because of the content. And at risk of sounding hopelessly sentimental, I hope they keep doing it for years to come.

Black Friday

This year I was introduced to a peculiar phenomenon I had previously avoided like the plague. It started with me being dragged out of bed and climbing into a car with my mother-in-law at 6:15 AM the day after Thanksgiving. Before I knew it we were scanning the parking lot at Wal-Mart with blood-shot eyes, looking for a place to park. Why in the world was the parking lot full so early in the morning, you ask? The answer, Black Friday, is a force of nature and is a sight to behold for the shopping newcomer like myself.

Everyone knows that it’s one of the biggest shopping days of the year, but I actually didn’t know it was called Black Friday until last week. As The Redhead’s mom explained it to me, it’s when retailers get into the black (make a profit). I think the real reason is because the sky is still black when people get up to go to the stores. So at 6:30 we were dodging shopping carts laden with TV’s and other large appliances while picking up a few items on sale at Wal-Mart. I went along for company and for a chance to get The Redhead a gift while she wasn’t there to see it. What did I get her, you ask? Well, I might tell you if she didn’t read my blog. But she does, so you’ll have to find out on Christmas like she will.

There was another reason I rolled out of bed at such an unholy hour: a reason far more self-serving. We had decided to get ourselves a Gamecube as a Christmas present to ourselves, and the local video game store had a special deal. Nintendo had already dropped the price to $99 for a Gamecube, two controllers, and Mario Kart Double Dash. That was tempting enough, but we caved when we saw in the local ads that a store nearby was offering some other goodies with it, including some games for our N64. So we left the store with our splendid new console and the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and Goldeneye, two N64 must-haves. We were immensely pleased. But we had to pack them up because we don’t even have a TV in our tiny apartment right now. Heck, we don’t even have room for a TV in our apartment right now.

So we’re actually well on our way to getting Christmas gifts for people this year. It’s a first for me; I usually don’t think about it until a week or two before Christmas. Last year I didn’t get anyone a gift. I was busy doing something else. What was it? Oh, that’s right . . . I got married.

Thanks Giving

Thanksgiving should be the biggest and most important holiday of the year. We got it all wrong when we put Christmas at the head of the holiday food chain. And I won’t hear anything about it being the celebration of Christ’s birth; it ceased to be any religious celebration long ago, and it’s questionable if it every really was. Jesus Christ was born in springtime; that much is clear from the biblical accounts (yes, I know it’s actually April 6, but we’re talking about mainstream Christianity here). The only reason Christmas is celebrated in December is because it was convenient for people who were used to pagan celebrations around the winter solstice. Besides, there is very little Christ in Christmas anymore. Heck, people call it X-mas sometimes in a conscious effort to remove all religiosity. The only religion Christmas adheres to is the worship of consumerism and consumerism.

No, Christmas shouldn’t be King of the Calendar. It should be Thanksgiving. Can you think of a better holiday? It has marvelous historical significance that is important to everyone in this country, regardless of faith, race, or creed. It is based on a genuine ideal that is sorely lacking in modern America: gratitude. We’d all be better people if we did a little more thanking and a little less whining. (The irony of that statement nestled in a whiny blog entry is not lost on my, by the way.) Thanksgiving is about family; more people are together as a family on Thanksgiving than any other holiday, including Christmas and New Year’s. Thanksgiving is about eating—can it get much better than that? This year we spent two and a half days preparing for one meal that lasted 45 short but glorious minutes. We then spend the rest of the day washing the dishes and hand-washing the china. Maybe it’s a waste of time, but I challenge you to sit down to a full table of turkey, stuffing, smashed potatoes, gravy, yams, etc. and think to yourself, “This isn’t worth the effort.” It’s all worthwhile in the end.

I’m sure as the Christmas season gets into full swing I’ll get into the spirit of Christmas, but I’m still 10 pounds heavier than I was last weak and relishing the thought of stuffing my face around that full table. My mother-in-law and my wife’s aunt did a little FHE lesson last Monday about the first Thanksgiving. They gave us all 5 kernels of corn and told us the legend about how the Pilgrims placed 5 kernels of corn next to their plates on the first Thanksgiving. There are two possible reasons why the did this: the first is that their rations got so low during the previous winter that for a while they only had 5 kernels of corn to eat per person each day; the second story is that their grain wouldn’t grow but they found a sack of Indian corn and there were 5 kernels of corn for each person to plant. (Fortunately for us, we don’t need specifics to enjoy historical lessons.) So at Thanksgiving Dinner we all had five kernels of corn next to our plates and we said five things we were thankful for. Some of the reasons were classic (family, food, shelter), some of them were funny (video games, flush toilets), and some kids couldn’t even think of anything (ungrateful wretches!). But it was a fun way to start our eat-a-thon. Which reminds me, Spike TV had a Bond-a-thon all weekend long with dozens of James Bond movies. One more thing to be thankful for.

AWOL

I have more or less disappeared the last few days due to a splendid Thanksgiving break. It’s probably the longest period of time I have gone without posting on my blog since I started it, which says volumes about my social life (or lack thereof). But my weeklong break was welcomed and extremely enjoyable, so now that I am back with the rest of the world I will try to write about it because it was funny.

I must clarify that I had access to a computer most of the week. Three of them, actually. So it’s not like I was incomunicado for a week. I simply had better things to do. I think I watched an average of 1.7 movies every day and ate vast amounts of turkey, stuffing, and pies. When I did get online I spent most of my time checking out the Board, which is my one true Internet love. Even my recently renewed amusement with Homestar can’t beat the Board. I’ll probably be 40 years old and still logging on to read it and complaining that it was better in my day.

White House

I have a bad habit of posting things under previous times, so it looks like I am far more regular in my posting than I actually am. I usually think of these splendid little monologues while I’m doing something. One of these days I’ll launch into my diatribe on smoking, which I think about every time I pass through the cloud when I enter a building here in D.C. A couple Saturdays ago The Redhead and I took a tour of the White House, and I instantly thought, “This is completely laughable. It deserves a spot in my blog.” I let The Redhead have a chance to do it first, but she’s had enough time that I think it’s fair to take my turn at it now.

If anyone has actually gone on a White House tour you’ll know the exact things I’m going to make fun of. These tours have to be planned in advance through your Senator or Representative’s office. I think they used to have a separate line in which wait outside for a few hours and get in, but like a lot of things in this town, that disappeared with all the security concerns. So a few months ago we had our names submitted through several congressional offices. You can do this when you know half a dozen interns working on Capitol Hill. (Side note: a guy working here once remarked, “I can’t believe the greatest government on God’s green earth is run by interns and kids in their 20’s.” This got a good laugh out of the conversation until we realized that it’s true. All of these offices are staffed with an army of interns and then some of them stay on for the exhausting jobs for a few more years. And this is what makes the country run. Forget the smoke-filled rooms and the power plays—the interns are in charge. Okay, maybe not quite, but they do get everything done. Without interns, who would drive Ted Kennedy around when he’s had too much to drink? Who would keep Trent Lott from saying remarks that would cause a scandal? Oops, too late.) Anyway, we got a tour through Senator Orrin Hatch's office.

So one fine Saturday morning a few weeks ago The Redhead and I took a stroll down Pennsylvania to the White House. It’s about 6 blocks away from our house, and it’s a pretty nice walk. They just opened a segment of Pennsylvania Ave in front of the White House to pedestrian traffic, so that was nice to walk around. Even with instructions on how to get there, we still couldn’t figure out where to be for the tour. D.C. has signs everywhere but none of them are really useful. They are always pointing towards something you don’t want to go to, and the place right next door that you’re trying to find isn’t labeled. With the help of some surly Capitol Police and some Park Rangers (The Mall is technically a national park.) We got there just in time to go through with the group.

I was a little disappointed with the security—it’s harder to get into my building that it is to get into the White House. We then walked for 15 minutes through sections of the White House, and that was the tour. It was “self guided”, which is to say that you were funneled through like cattle in a stock yard and then you left. Several of the rooms on the lower level were closed at the time because of some function that was to be held that evening, so that was lame. Some of the rooms were pretty cool, like the Blue Room. It looks out over the Mall and you can see the Jefferson Monument and the Washington Monument. Most of the other rooms are just old, and they look nice but they’re nothing to write home about (But apparently enough to write a blog about). The paintings of former presidents and first ladies were probably the best part. As we walked into the Cross Halls a guy in the tour yelled, “Hey look! It’s Bill!” Sure enough, there was former president Bill Clinton’s painting. I was about to remark how unflattering it was when I turned around and got the scare of a lifetime. Unfortunately for her (and for all of us) Senator Hillary Clinton has an equally-large and surpassingly-scary painting in the same room. It was a really freaking looking painting. I mean, that woman scares me normally, but the painting was horror-flick material.

So that was our tour of the White House. It was nice, and I’m glad we went because it was such a nice day, but the actual tour wasn’t the highlight. In the words of The Redhead, “George and Laura didn’t even come in and say hi.”

Post Note: never type in "White House dot com". Turns out an enterprising porn site operator got that domain name during the late 90's. I'm sure there are a lot of jokes I could tell about that, but I'll let them go. Sometimes less is more.

The Fam

It’s been a terribly busy week, and my in-laws are in town. Unlike the general stereotype, I happen to love my in-laws dearly. I know, I know, I’m supposed to hate my mother-in-law. But she persists on being the most pleasant and funny person, and it’s terribly hard to hate people like that. The nerve of that woman, really. So she’s just plain hilarious, and I swear she isn’t old enough to have been The Redhead’s mother. More like older cousin or something. So my relationship with my mother-in-law is abnormally good. I’m not quite sure why we get along so swimmingly. The first photo she ever saw of me (back when The Redhead and I first dated) was me being an immature clown and sticking my tongue out at the camera. She looked at it and said, “Yeah, this guy is right for my daughter.” Hmm, that probably says something about The Redhead, too.

I’m sure in a few days I’ll have more entertaining stories about the in-laws, but I’m barely recovering from my family being in town on Saturday. They were going to come a few weeks ago but something came up, so we got a back-to-back double dose of family, with some small overlap in between. Our families are astonishingly similar. Even down to dads that like to crack corny jokes. *shudder* We really could be related, but I’m very glad we’re not, for obvious reasons.

The Redhead and I took my family on a walking tour of Washington. We did the memorials, including the FDR, the WWII, the Vietnam, and the Jefferson. They had already seen the Lincoln and the Washington has been closed for several months now. (Dumb ol’ security stuff.) We saw bits of the American History Museum and the Natural History Museum. I had to repent a little bit about my comments on the American History Museum, because we saw some stuff that wasn’t as dumbed down as the exhibits we had seen previously. The Natural History Museum was coolness incarnate, though. Man, I will never get tired of seeing dinosaurs. (In my mind I say it like the audio-visual presentation they watch in Jurassic Park, in which “saur” rhymes with “car”.) We spent about an hour and a half there and barely scratched the surface.

But some of the best parts were being with my family. One of my brothers is at BYU right now and another one is on his mission in Brazil, so there were only four siblings plus The Redhead. It’s funny to see my family without the brothers that are closest to my age. And the little sibs have REALLY grown up. The Youngest had long hair like The Beatles and had a Trogdor sweatshirt on. (Sadly, I think I was the one that got them hooked on Homestar, so it’s my fault.) The Sister is all grown up, and the Brother In-between is going to be taller than me soon. That’s pretty depressing. My sibs spent much of the day whining about how they were tired and wanted to watch an IMAX movie or stop and rest. There case would have been more convincing if they hadn’t been sprinting from bench to bench as we walked around the Tidal Basin. “Mom, I’m tired. Hey, beat you to the next bench!” And off they went.

I guess the thought I took away from the day was that I love my family and all their quirks. Goodness knows I have plenty myself. But there’s something about family that just makes me completely comfortable. That’s why I like my in-laws. I’m completely comfortable around them. Within 5 minutes of meeting The Redhead’s brother I was giving him a huge wedgie and playing video games with him. It’s nice to fit in. So we’re going to be spending the next several days with her family. We’ll see if they still like me after this week. :-)

I'm right

Here's a funny little thing I've been thinking about. One of the fun things about having a blog (or little domain to call your own) is that you can always be right. For instance, an anonymous reader left an ignorant comment on my post about annoying nicknames and I had the luxury of blasting him/her and being backed up by Uffish Thought. It’s like people who have their own radio shows: they always win the arguments because by definition they have the last word. It’s their show and the people who listen to it are their supporters. You can’t win an argument with a show host. Well, maybe you can if you’re John Stewart on Crossfire.

Speaking of Crossfire, it is a truly intriguing show. I don’t really like watching it: I think it’s contentious and unimaginative. It isn’t fun or interesting to watch. It’s an ugly and sometimes vicious knock-down drag-out brawl for fifty-year-old men. What intrigues me is what it says about America. CNN is supposedly is an intellectual news media organization, but Crossfire is the political version of The Jerry Springer Show. I haven’t seen Bob Novak stand up and wag his finger and accuse anyone of having his baby, but maybe that’s in the “Too Hot for TV” version.

Fools and interviews

There exists a peculiar institution in modern culture known as the interview. It is such a vague and variable word, kinda like the word “talk.” “Talk” can mean anything as comfortable and casual as “talking with an old friend” or as formal as “giving a talk in Stake Conference” or as frightening as the old relationship classic: “We need to talk.” (Yikes!) So the phenomenon known as “the interview” has almost as many meanings. For most of us in my age group, it usually is in connection with some great aspiration. The last few interviews I have had have been for jobs, to get into school programs, etc. Every time I have an interview I proceed to make a complete fool of myself. The funny thing is, I usually get called back and accepted or asked for a second interview. So either everyone else has a similarly poor performance or the places I’m applying to are looking for people that are fools. I think I’d rather believe the former.

I was actually being somewhat facetious about making a fool out of my self; in actuality, I think I interview fairly well. As well as can be expected for an unpredictable situation. I have a bad habit of making poor first impressions, but I can usually avoid this peril in an interview. (It’s not until they’ve hired me that they start to wonder if they made the wrong decision. They usually end up liking me okay, but the first week or two makes ‘em sweat.) But interviews can be harrowing experiences. The last one I had was for my current internship, and today I had the privilege of participating in an interview to choose my successor. Being on the other end of the phone line gave me funny insight as to what sounds good in an interview.

It is policy in my office to have several specialists as well as the current interns participate in the phone interviews for intern candidates. This is meant to provide a variety of perspectives and make the call more comfortable, but sometimes the interviewee can feel outnumbered. It’s the emotional equivalent of a gangbang. So we ganged up on some unsuspecting girl from BYU who had probably just woken up on Mountain Time and proceeded to ask her a myriad of questions. Some of these questions were just plain weird. In my interview earlier this year I made the biggest fool out of myself when answering the question, “Tell us about a challenge in school or work that you faced and how you overcame it.” So as irony would have it, I got to ask this girl the same question. I dare say she did a much better job than I did. She had done her homework fairly well, and it turned out to be a fairly productive interview. My favorite parts had to do with her transcripts: we had her records in front of us and one of the senior specialists asked her about a C- she got in a music class. She rather abashedly explained that it was an attendance-based class and she went out of town during the semester. I think she actually scored more points in the interview explaining that situation, but the thought of my Chem 105 grade coming back to haunt me will probably fuel several nightmares when I interview for a job. *shiver* That’s worse than the ones I had in high school where I was walking around the halls with no pants on. Um, maybe that’s more information than you all needed to know. Man, all I need to do is think about being in an interview and I start making a fool out of myself.

Danger like popcorn

There have been a few changes in town since the elections. I’m not talking about Colin Powell and John Ashcroft leaving, either. For the first time since last summer the Homeland Security Advisory System was downgraded from Orange (High Risk of Terrorist Attack) to Yellow (Significant Risk of Terrorist Attack). They guards outside my work building were no longer checking ID in order to approach the building and they opened the section of Pennsylvania Ave in front of the White House to pedestrian traffic for the first time in years. I am a big fan of these changes, since it makes it easier to get into work. And the section of Penn. Ave. is a great place to walk and stroll around, as The Redhead and I did on Saturday when we took a tour of the White House. (Maybe I’ll get around to writing about that later.)

What really interested me is that we as a nation heave a collective sigh of relief when our terror rating hits “Significant Risk of Terrorist Attack.” Since when is a “significant risk” a good thing? This Homeland Security Advisory System is set up like the sizes of popcorn at the movie theaters: Large, Extra-Large, and Jumbo. You have to order a “Large” to get a Small. Or the soft drinks at fast-food restaurants: the smallest size is a "bladder buster." In some ways it’s fitting that our terrorism alert system is just as overstated as our meal portions: it fits modern America. We have successfully desensitized ourselves (and our stomachs) so that only a huge blow will get our attention. We could draw this analogy further to explain why the first World Trade Center bombing, the attack on the U.S.S. Cole and the African embassy bombings weren’t enough to get our foreign policy agenda’s attention in the 1990’s.

What a big bunch of idiots we are. It’s like today’s post on the Board: none of us is as stupid as all of us. The bigger the bunch of people you get together the lower the collective IQ gets, so that by the time you reach the size of this country you have a very low IQ indeed. I’m not really dogging on U.S. foreign policy specifically. I just think we Americans are so absurd sometimes. We like everything big. Big country, big importance, big popcorn, big egos, big terror threat, big waistlines, big whoop.

Primary colors

Today was our branch’s primary program. Or as they say in my branch, el programa de la primaria. (For those of you who don’t habla español, el programa de la primaria mean, in Spanish, the program of the primary.) Yes, as you may have astutely discerned, I go to church in a little inner-city Spanish branch. And oh, is it fun. It’s like being in Latin America again. The Redhead actually is in the Young Women’s Presidency and I think she empathizes a little with me for what my first few months in the mission field were like. So today was the Primary Program in sacrament meeting, and I thought it was a perfectly poetic synthesis of all that is Latino, Mormon, and Universal in the world.

The meeting started with the missionaries setting up the chairs for the children on the stand. This is consistent with my experience in Latin America, although it isn’t necessarily a “Latino” thing. But they like to make the missionaries do everything, so they put them to work. All the children were dressed up all nice and looked so cute. They proceeded to sing several songs and thus proved themselves to be of Latino lineage by their singing voices. (Sorry all my Hispanic friends out there, but most of my friends in Latin America can’t sing in-key to save their lives; these kids were no exceptions.) It was a very “lindo” and “especial” meeting.

It had a lot of classic elements of primary programs around the world. There were the few older kids that thought they were too cool to sing and didn’t want to get up when everyone else stood up to sing. There was one musical number that no one knew the words to, which I think is a tradition in all Primary Programs. There was the song that the kids only knew the chorus to, so it was kinda quiet through the verses and then they all joined in on the chorus. There were the requisite awe’s when a little kid said something particularly cute and there were a few talks given by “gentle suggestion.” (The mom said the phrases in the kid’s ear and he or she repeated them breathily into the microphone.) Oh, I almost forgot the baby wailing loudly in the back. (Good heavens, will that parent take that kid out?)

I liked the universal things about the meeting the best. Kids are funny. They wave to their parents and they pick their noses up on the stand and they just make me laugh. Some day I’ll probably have little rugrats like that and I’ll think they’re the greatest little kids ever. They’ll probably be hyperactive ADD/HD redheaded boys and they’ll give me hypertension and a heart condition. And it’ll probably serve me right for what I did to my parents when I was little. Suddenly I am very afraid. . .

Secret combinations

Yesterday The Redhead and I made a very sloppy excursion to the Freer Art Gallery to meet two people whom we did not know. In fact, we really didn’t even use our real names. We stood at a predetermined spot facing the Mall at 1:00 PM and waited for our two “informants” to show up. They arrived and identified themselves by the secret handshake and the passwords (“plethora” and “scatological”) and we proceeded to conduct secret 100 Hour Board business. Okay, it really wasn’t very secret. There weren’t any handshakes or passwords, and if there had been passwords, “scatological” wouldn’t have been one of them. But The Redhead and I did have an entertaining visit with Katya the Physics Chick and A.A. Melyngoch yesterday afternoon.

Why Katya and Ms. Melyngoch happened to be in Washington in the middle of the semester is another subject entirely. But they decided to meet us for a not-so-secret rendezvous to see the Asian-Eastern art at the Freer Gallery down on the Mall. DC, in its wonderful American spirit, welcomed them with 40-degree weather and steady rain all day. Being used to the drier weather of Utah, they didn’t bring umbrellas and consequently were rather soaked when they arrived.

I have decided that touring a museum with funny people isn’t necessarily the wisest thing to do, although it is certainly fun. The pieces in the collection were amazing, and I wondered why I didn’t know more about the Freer Gallery before they proposed visiting it. (It certainly was a better museum than the American History Museum, which is the reality show of the Smithsonian. All of the exhibits were built for people with attention spans of less than 30 seconds and half of the upper floor was dedicated to The Beatles. They’re not even American! C’mon! The only thing truly American about that museum was the blatant consumerism built in with the restaurants and museum store. But I digress. . .) Despite the respect I have for ancient Chinese, Indian, Japanese, and Muslim artifacts, the company was far more entertaining. We caught up on recent Board news while admiring full-size wooden carvings of Buddha. (I want a Buddha for my bathroom.) We talked about school and work while in the Peacock Room. We engaged in vicious gossip through the Japanese and Korean exhibits and only finished while looking at the Hindu sculptures. All in all, it was a very enjoyable outing that really didn’t have anything to do with Board business or anonymity. But it was fun. The other writers need to come out and visit too. Maybe we can bribe them. Latro, I have a friend who owns a Mini Cooper. He might be willing to let you drive it if you come to visit. . .

Temper temper

I have the most terrible temper sometimes. Oh, most of the time I’m fine. But every once in a while something just sets me off. This morning had me all riled up. I was hurrying out the door and I forgot my ID and my Metro card. To get into my work I have to pass 3 security stations, and I need my government issue ID for two of them. Not having my ID means I have to go through the annoying and time-consuming process of having an outside guard call an inside desk on the radio and have one of them call one of my coworkers on the phone so they can vouch for me and I can get inside. It makes me late and it’s cold outside, so I didn’t like that. (We’ve been on Orange Alert for 6 months. I think someone forgot to bring the alert level back down, like leaving the light on in the attic and not noticing it for a month.) But forgetting my Metro card means I have to buy a new one, which means I have to wait in line at one of the machines in the Metro station to get a new card. Today there were two women in front of me that took a long time checking the balance on their pass. They didn’t even buy anything, but they took a long time. I heard two of my trains come and go while I waited for them. I then bought my ticket as fast as I could and ran down the escalator, only to see my train pull out of the station.

I got so mad. Completely irrational anger possessed me. I don’t hit things when I get angry (although I wanted to this morning). I usually just quiet and perhaps mutter certain words under my breath. The thing that drives me crazy about my temper is that I only get mad about little and irrelevant things. No one cares when I get into work. I can just call a coworker and have them okay me for entry. If I have to buy another Metro card I’ll just use it up; it won’t be wasted money. I knew all of these things in the back of my mind but I was still too mad to calm down. That’s the thing I hate about me sometimes. One side of my brain is completely aware of how immature I am being, but the other side won’t settle down for a while.

Today I was in a grumbly mood until I got into the office and sat down and I suddenly wasn’t mad anymore. My Mr. Hyde side got tired of being angry, and my Dr. Jekyll began to berate me for being so foolish for getting upset about such a little thing. I guess the positive aspect of my temper is that it is always short-lived. I couldn’t hold a grudge to save my life, and I really don’t like being mad. It’s not fun, so I don’t stay mad for very long. It possibly comes from growing up with several brothers. We often shared a room and we got in fights on a regular basis, but we simply resorted to physical violence to solver our disputes. After a royal rumble we would be too tired to fight anymore and all of us would have forgotten what the original argument was about, so the matter was solved. This certainly wasn’t the most highbrow conflict resolution mechanism every utilized by humankind, but it worked for 12-year-old boys. I don’t tackle people when I get mad now, but I need to work on my royal rumble temper.

That was a close one

I’m really glad John Kerry didn’t win. The reasoning for this statement actually has nothing to do with politics. It has to do with the stupid American media. Already towards the end of the election they were starting to refer to John F. Kerry as JFK II. Kerry obviously welcomed the comparison: he was a Catholic elitist Democratic candidate from Massachusetts, just like John F. Kennedy. In fact, it would appear that his whole life has been modeled after the revered former president—his service in the military, his time in the Senate. Just like former president Bill Clinton, John Kerry has stated that meeting John F. Kennedy when he was young was a defining moment in his life. (I will leave comments about the habits of former presidents Clinton and Kennedy for another day; it’s just too easy of a target.) The comparison between Kennedy and Kerry was obvious, and I was fine with that. But by reelecting George W. Bush the nation narrowly avoided another annoying catch phrase that could have plagued the nation for the rest of the decade.

The first of these flagrant abbreviations was Y2K. Oh, how I hated that phrase. It was everywhere in the end of 1999. It stemmed from a rather minor worry about computer glitches (thanks again, Microsoft) and escalated to panics about failed banking systems and terrorist attacks that had half the country rushing to buy a year’s supply of bottled water, batteries, and peanut butter. I hated the phrase Y2K. The perpetrator of this term would had been horsewhipped and hanged long ago had he not fled the country. He is rumored to be hiding somewhere in Southern Argentina, but Interpol has no definite leads. Mercifully, the dawn of the year 2000 led to almost zero computer glitches and no terrorist attacks, (although my dad did throw the breaker in the basement at the stroke of 12 and we were fooled for about 30 seconds) so we all got on with our lives and Y2K disappeared from the headlines. Many foolish people, myself included, breathed a sigh of relief that we had seen the last of that silly coined phrase.

Then came 9/11. This is a little less absurd because we really do refer to dates that way. But I still don’t like it. I think it encouraged the media to spin out these silly words for anything in the news a lot. I really didn’t know what 9/11 was until I got back from my mission. If you had asked me what it was I would have told you it was a Porsche. I of course knew about the attacks, but being spared from the American media’s inane nattering, I didn’t realize they had given the even such a cutesy nickname. I actually remember reading a letter from a friend and she talked about not being able to go to London because of “911”. I read it like 9-1-1, like the number you dial for emergency response. Now they even named the commission the “9/11 Commission.” Even though this is the least offensive of the nicknames, in some ways it is the worst because it will stay with us for longer than all the others.

Then there was J.Lo. I really disliked that one. Jennifer Lopez certainly has a large fanny, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call her an “event,” much less something that merited a catch phrase. When she and Ben Affleck got engaged the nickname got thrown around even more frequently and it drove me even crazier. It’s not a far drive, I assure you. Then, horror of horrors, they coined a new term by calling them “Beniffer.” I realize they were on so many newsstands that they may have perhaps warranted a name for the collective entity they formed, but I just couldn’t stand another silly word thrown around on the cover of People magazine in the checkout lines. Thankfully, their engagement was already going down the tubes at that point and they broke up before the term really caught on. I had nightmares about other celebrity couples being similarly labeled, like “Bradiston” or “Cruisencruz” Ugh.

So we dodged the bullet on the JFK II name. It would have been worse than all the aforementioned names combined, because on any given day the president is in the headlines for half a dozen issues. I’m not saying that George W. Bush isn’t without peril; there’s always the chance that the media will pick up on the “W” nickname. But he’s gotten through four years without that one really sticking, so hopefully he’ll get through four more. Forget the job approval ratings or the economy. Avoiding an absurd nickname is the real test of a presidency.

I've got culture coming out my-

Saturday The Redhead and I had planned to spend the day with my family. They were going to come into town to spend a weekend seeing some of the sights in DC and visit with us. They ended up not being able to come due to the health of my grandfather, so The Redhead and I found ourselves facing an open Saturday with nothing in particular planned. We got off to a good start by watching a couple movies until 1:00 AM, which is a great way to start a lazy Saturday. After lounging in bed until we felt like getting up, we had an unhurried breakfast. There is nothing more delicious than lying in bed and enjoying the sensation that you have absolutely nothing to do that day. It rarely happens to me, and if it happened more often I probably wouldn’t like it because I’m too hyperactive. But the occasional free day is a wonderful experience.

Somewhere around noon we decided to go see the National Gallery of Art. So we hopped in the Metro and came out around Chinatown, grabbed something to eat, and then strolled on down to the Mall. The weather was great jacket weather, with the sun shining brightly (not something to be taken for granted in this city) and the leaves crunching underfoot. The Redhead and I had already seen the East Gallery of the Art Museum, which is the modern art wing. So we started in the lower level of the West Gallery and walked through the museum. Rather than standing there and soaking up each piece of art, we walked through each room and stopped only when something caught our eye. The sculptures by Rodin were quite good, so we spent a few minutes there. We skimmed through medieval tapestries, stained glass from the 14th Century, jeweled chalices and silver medallions. We saw pieces by Velásquz, El Greco, Goya, Picasso, Dalí, Rembrandt, Copley, Church, Rubens, Vermeer, David, Van Gogh, Monet, Manet, Cézanne, Gougin, Renoir, Degas, Saurat, and whole bunch of other artists that I can’t even remember. I’m sure I’m forgetting half of them.

The National Gallery is really rather well designed; it is divided into almost a hundred small rooms and there are 4-10 pieces in each room. It gives a sort of intimacy and quiet that enables large amounts of people to go at their own pace and still find quiet moments to examine pieces they like. I like landscapes, and so does The Redhead. (In her words: “I’m a sucker for landscapes.”) There were some really nice landscape pieces and some nice Hudson River School paintings. I was especially taken by several paintings of ships in a harbor during sunset. I know, I know, what a cliché thing to paint, but it’s beautiful in real life and inasmuch as the painter could capture the image on the canvas, it is a beautiful painting. The one I liked best was Lumber Schooners at Evening on Penobscot Bay, by Fitz Hugh Lane. I was disappointed when I couldn’t find a print of it in the museum store. But what I really liked were the Claude Monet pieces. Especially The Japanese Footbridge. I know Monet’s water lily paintings are about as masculine as the Power Puff Girls, but I think it’s amazing art. I got a small print of it to frame sometime, if The Redhead every permits me to have a hand in decorating any place we live.

I didn’t really like everything in the museum. The sculpture was interesting because of how complete a medium it is. I can appreciate the accuracy with which Rodin created human forms, even down to the individual strands of hair. But the Medieval tapestries got old fast, and so did the scenes of the crucifixion. Two-dimensional paintings of people dying aren’t that fun. The still-life weren’t really that thrilling to me either. But we just moved on to other rooms where we could appreciate things more. We took a break and sat in the central court with a fountain and huge black marble columns that reminded The Redhead of Moria in The Fellowship of the Ring. After we saw the West Gallery we went back to the modern art gallery to reexamine some of our favorite pieces there. They have an excellent set of Rothko mural paintings there right now that I enjoyed. One of them has great colors, but we unfortunately haven’t been able to find a print of that either. They have a few Andy Warhol paintings too, which are quite iconic. The Redhead’s favorite is Birds Falling by Becker. I like it too; it’s got an intense blue and white color scheme that is rather appealing. We haven’t had any luck finding prints of that one either, though. I really would like to have some artwork in my home, but it’s hard to find the stuff you like that fits with your house. And I don’t want to be snooty about having nice artwork; I just think it looks really good. I must be really cultured. Um, yeah, that’s it.

So next time you’re in the Capital City take an afternoon and visit the National Gallery of Art. Or, as a next-best option, check out their extensive Web site and take a few virtual tours. I recommend the Monets, the Seurats, the Cézannes, the Rothkos, and of course, the landscapes.

Fun with numbers

At risk of beating a dead horse, we’re going to look at some entertaining trends that were exposed in the election. I really think these are kind of funny. I got started on the topic when I was talking with The Redhead about how everyone was quiet yesterday after they heard the results of the election. They all seemed depressed, even more so than when the Redskins lose. People shuffled around my office in despair and where The Redhead works at American University they were all quiet and disappointed. The Redhead said, “I bet 90% of people in DC voted for Kerry.” I suggested that we look it up on CNN, and sure enough, she was exactly right: 90% of DC voted for Kerry, 9% for Bush, and 1% for Nader. (Go Nader!) This means that DC is even more Democratic than Utah is Republican (only 71% of Utah voted for Bush). I guess I know what liberals feel like in Utah. In a way, moving back and forth between Utah and DC is a practice in opposites. As conservative as Utah may be, DC is more extreme in its liberal tendencies. A fun and informative way to see how these two ideologies mix is to watch the headlines from the Washington Post and the Washington Times. For example, when the commission concluded that Iraq did not have weapons of mass destruction, the Post’s headline said “No WMD’s in Iraq” and the Times’ front page said “Commission report released.” Even though it represents my ideology better, I really don’t read the Times. The Post is a first-rate newspaper, and my bias against it is only due to the fact that I like the NY Times Web site better and read it more often.

I was sitting in my cubicle and showing my fellow intern Laurence the Slap the Candidate Web site and one of my supervisors walked in. She’s a group leader, just under the division director. I thought to my self, “Uh oh, caught slacking on the job.” Instead she thought it was funny and made me slap the candidates at different speeds to see what faces popped up. Heh, this is a great job sometimes. Oh, hey, another funny thing: outside The Redhead’s uncle’s work there are some black guys that preach a religion where the 12 tribes of Israel are 12 groups of black people, like Ethiopians, etc. They have a bull horn and heckle every person that walks into Metro Center that is white, Asian, Hispanic, or anything other than black. (I might call this racism, but then I would be called a racist.) They get a little rowdy sometimes and the police have to quiet them down, but for the most part they’re somewhat entertaining. My favorite part about them is their insistence that Jesus was black. Um, sorry to break it to you, guys, but he was Jewish.

So here are some more numbers to wrap up this short and largely pointless blog entry:

51% percentage of people hopeful about the upcoming four years
71% percentage of Utahans that voted for Bush, the highest ratio in the nation
90% percentage of people in the District of Columbia that voted for Kerry
86% percentage of people in Mississippi that voted for the gay marriage ban
72% percentage of my coworkers with hangovers on Wednesday morning

The end and the beginning

So it’s essentially over. Good, it’s about time. John Kerry proved himself much more the gentleman than Al Gore by politely phoning President Bush this morning and congratulating him. It’s got to be heartbreaking to spend several years of your life (some would say your whole life) to come that close. Say what you want about the man, but I still respect John Kerry as an astute politician and a respectable man. Perhaps that’s what I appreciate most out of this election: no scandal, no screaming during debates, no childish behavior. Of course they traded harsh words in ads. Of course they made every accusation about each other. It’s an ugly process. But they never lost their heads and they retained almost all of their respective dignities. I sincerely hope that the issues brought up during the campaign are addressed by the administration and this grand exercise in democracy is put to good use.

In the aftermath of the election, there are several things that catch my attention. One is poor old Tom Daschle, who has finally paid the ultimate political price for being the Senate Minority Leader in a highly conservative state. It’s a very interesting development. Also interesting are the high (but still low) voter turnout, the conspicuous absence of young voters, and the GOP gains in the House and the Senate. But what catches my attention most are the results of the state constitutional amendments banning same-sex marriage in 11 states. Perhaps more than the presidential election, these votes have made a large but subtle impact on the nation.

Arkansas, Georgia, Kentucky, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon and Utah all passed amendments banning gay couples from marriage. (Missouri and Louisiana passed similar amendments earlier this year.) Mississippi’s initiative won by a colossal 86%, but the most surprising victory came from Oregon where some local officials issued marriage licenses to same-sex couples and gay marriage proponents had expected to be able to defeat the amendment. I quote two segments form the corresponding article in the New York Times:

The votes will become ``a blip in the longer term historic view,'' said Karl Olson, executive director of the gay-rights group PRIDE in Montana. ``Our constitution isn't going to be able to sustain this kind of restriction on civil rights.''

``The results just go to show that the citizens ... clearly understand the value of natural marriage,'' said Christina Rondeau, director of the North Dakota Family Alliance.

I have sincerely struggled with the issue of gay marriage. I believe in equality. I believe that civil rights should be afforded to all people, regardless of their racial background, political persuasion, or sexuality. But where do you draw the line? Is marriage a basic right that should be available to all of society? If marriage is necessary to enter the Celestial Kingdom, should we be denying it to anyone, even if we believe his or her version of marriage is incorrect?

I have wrestled with this issue for quite some time now. I ultimately came to the conclusion that my personal stance is the same as that of the Church: marriage is between a man and a woman, and any other arrangement is not marriage. But in order to really take a position on the topic I had to reach that conclusion for myself. I’m not the kind of person that takes doctrine on blind faith. My personal version of faith is more of an “informed faith.” I’ll believe and obey, but I must reach that decision on my own. One of the things I like about the Church is that it leaves room for this personal conviction, and that I never have to believe anything I don’t know is true. In this case I have come to the sincere conclusion that marriage was not created by man or government. Just as we are all born with certain inalienable rights that cannot be changed or impugned upon by governments, the institution of marriage is sacred, divinely given, and unchangeable by man. Governments cannot dictate the bounds of marriage any more than they can dictate the bounds of repentance or any other tenant of the gospel. The confusion lies in the fact that marriage is an institution officially recognized by governments. This is convenient for administrative and social purposes, but recognizing marriage does not grant power to determine the nature of the institution.

My largest personal conflict with gay marriage is the dilemma of loving someone while denying them something they want. The friends and acquaintances I have who are gay or who have gay family members support same-sex marriage. I love and respect these people while at the same time I oppose them in their desire to marry. This conflict of love and denial is difficult for me to reconcile. But I know what is true, and I know that ultimately it is better for all people and all of society to deny them this wish because it will help keep the family unit strong in society and reinforce correct principles.

I voted in one of the 11 states that banned same-sex marriage yesterday. I voted according to my conscience, not without some pain, but with full knowledge of the implications of my vote. With Massachusetts making gay marriage legal and a Louisiana judge already striking down its amendment as unconstitutional, I predict that this issue will become increasingly important in the coming months and years. With the imminent challenge of these amendments under the equal rights and protection clause of the Constitution, we will all have to come to some reckoning of our personal feelings on the issue. It will probably be a painful and uncomfortable process for all those involved, because it leaves many people unhappy. But this “uncomfort” is good, because it is the basis of the “informed faith” that is necessary to keep our society and country on the right track. I really don’t have all the answers. I’m just trying to find them.

Call it

It's 12:30 AM and WAY past my bedtime, but I'm still up hitting "refresh" on my browser every 30 seconds watching the results come in. I'll be in to work late tomorrow, but so will everyone else. At the last minute I decided to throw out bipartisanship and all semblance of impartiality and just route for Bush and hope he whupped Kerry in Florida and Ohio. What's a game without routing for a winner? And what's politics if not the biggest game in the world? I've been following the results via CNN, which hasn't been as reticent to declare the winners as the NY Times but not so eager as the Washington Post. With 82% of polls in from Ohio, CNN is reporting that Bush is maintaining his 130,000 vote lead over Kerry. Go Buckeyes. They just called Colorado for Bush, which was surprisingly close. With 72% of New Mexico polls reporting, Bush has a 5 point lead over Kerry. Wisconsin, Michigan, and Nevada seem to be going to Kerry, although it's only a 3,000 vote difference in Nevada. But we all know that only Ohio and Florida matter right now.

I'm going to call it for Bush and call it a night. For all of you up blogging tonight or following the results in later time zones, here's a fun Web site to help you pass your time. And if your candidate loses, you can use the site for therapy tomorrow. Good night everyone.

Finale, finally

Just about the time I was turning off my alarm and stumbling bleary-eyed into the bathroom this morning, polls up and down the East Coast were opening to lines of voters anxious to cast their ballots before work. In fact, several states like Virginia opened at 6:00 AM to early-bird voters, and the Washington Post shows long lines already forming outside many polling stations around the DC Metro area. It’s the beginning of the end—not the end of the world, but the end of a long and grueling election season.

It has been fascinating to be here in Washington during the campaign. Listening to the people who live and work here, you would think that George W. Bush was certain to be removed from office. Public sentiment here is strongly against him. Just this morning I heard one of the more conservative gentlemen from my office remark to a coworker that he was willing to do anything “just to get that son of a b___ out of office.” Other colleagues work with political action committees that are actively campaigning for John Kerry. One of them has actually put ads on the air in some states. They gape in horror when I say I really don’t like John Kerry. I’m quick to point out, however, that I’m not really a huge Bush fan either. Sometimes politics is a process of choosing the lesser of two evils. But politics is the game that makes this city tick, so it is interesting to watch things in full swing. I think it’s good to meet and talk with people of other opinions. It’s broadened my understanding of a lot of issues, and actually strengthened some of my positions on a few points.

A few weeks ago I was sick of all the election hullabaloo. It was a constant, throbbing background to everything I did. Now that the campaign is coming to a close, I’m a little more interested in it. I’m convinced that we haven’t heard the end of it; there are thousands of lawyers poised ready to strike as soon as the results come in. No matter who wins, it will be ugly. But no matter who wins, I have full faith that the democratic process will continue. Do I want one particular candidate to win? Yes, I guess I do, especially considering the implications for future Supreme Court nominations. But if he doesn’t win, life goes on.

The other day The Redhead and I were talking about the election, and she made the comment that without California, the Democrats wouldn’t have a chance. I countered with the fact that without the South or the Mountain West, the Republicans wouldn’t have a chance. It amazes me how very close this election will be. Last week Charlie Cook (of the Cook Political Report) said in an address that you have a better chance of buying a Powerball ticket and winning than accurately predicting the outcome of the election today. The NY Times’ Election Guide shows that it will all come down to Ohio, Wisconsin, Florida, and Iowa. But about 10 other states could really go either way, so maybe it’s even more unpredictable than that. My election predictions, however, are very reliable. I predict there will be a lot of talk and a lot of hot air blown around. I predict there will be an army of lawyers from both sides arguing about the issue for some time. I predict there will be a lot of sore losers, but that in the end, we’ll still be in the same place doing the same jobs and having the same arguments. The political pundits may not be able to call the election, but I know my predictions will come true.

Stupid people

I hate people. Okay, not really, but have you ever had a morning where everyone around you just drives you mad? I confess that my own disposition has a lot to do with this, since I am Type-A to a fault. I walk faster than everyone else, I walk on the escalators (so does everyone else here), and I don’t like to wait. So this morning was basically a Type-A nightmare. It started out alright. My walk to the Metro was pleasant; we’ve been treated with unseasonably nice weather this weekend. The streets were very busy, as were the sidewalks, but it was a pleasant little stroll. Then some sort of signal was made, and every stupid person in the District of Columbia started to get in my way. And there are a lot of stupid people here.

The trains were late out of Foggy Bottom, and when the Orange line did come, it was packed. It is an unwritten but clearly understood rule that you stand to the side of the doors so that the people on the train may exit before the people on the platform may enter. And most people did this, except for this one guy that parked square in the middle of the flow of people moving off the train, thereby slowing this progress to a crawl. If looks could kill I would have burned him to ashes with my eyes, but fortunately for the stupid population of the U.S., I do not have any X-Men-like lazor-vision. So after standing there like a big dumb roadblock and earning the ire of myself and everyone around me, this guy gets on the train and then the doors start to close because it’s taken so long for the people to get off. So someone holds the doors and we all cram onto the train in a hurry while Mr. Roadblock stands just inside the door and blocks our entry. I was not a little satisfied when someone not so politely pushed him out of the way.

At my transfer in Metro Station I managed to get behind every overweight or slow-walking person in the whole station. They talked with friends, they swung around and kept me from moving past them, and they stood on the left side of the escalators. Yes, you read that right. They committed the Unpardonable Sin. Everyone (except tourists) knows that the right side of the escalators is for standing and the left side is for walking, so people in a hurry can catch their train and people not in a hurry can park their fat carcasses on the right side and spare the rest of us the agony of their presence. Fortunately, I didn’t miss my train because of these inconsiderate cows, but it should have served as a warning that all stupid people within a 10-mile radius were being drawn to me.

But my run-in with dumb people at Union Station took the cake. There are two escalators at Union Station, and one of them has been out of commission for repairs for a week or two. This is probably due to stupid people as well, although I cannot prove the connection. So a large amount of people are forced to walk up and down one escalator like it was a set of narrow stairs. There are escalators and elevators inside the station for people who have trouble with stairs, but the stopped escalator is still much quicker for me to get to work. Except today. There was a line just to get onto the escalator because a guy with a bum leg was inching his way up, step by step. Why he got on that escalator when the working ones are within sight, I don’t know. But there I was, already late to work, waiting for the cattle in front of me to get moving up the ramp. Finally the guy got off the escalator, and by this time I had actually got on it. But by that point people’s IQ’s around me were plummeting, and everyone on the escalator continued to climb at the pace previously set by Mr. Bum Leg. This process was also facilitated by people getting off the escalator and standing there looking around, conveniently blocking everyone else trying to get off the escalator. I just wanted to scream, “FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, WILL YOU PEOPLE MOVE?” Actually, I wanted to scream something other than that, but it goes against my principles. I did, however, want a momentary exemption from my usual abstinence from profanity. I really do not think it is too much to ask to expect people around me to have already mastered the art of upright locomotion and basic cognitive skills that most primates can handle. But apparently my expectations are far too high.

Oh, good heavens, I just had a scary thought. These people are eligible to VOTE . . .