Invariably, we humans are a curious breed; we never fail to see the optimism of tomorrow. While we rarely manage to address everything in our inexplicably busy lives today, we know with certainty that tomorrow the sun will rise in the East and, given our best intentions, we will accomplish what we've needed to address by the time tomorrow's Sun sets in the West.
Except we don't call into question whether we'll be there to witness both of these daily certainties. Of course we will; why would we even question it?
A friend of mine, Neil Dublinsky, seemed to be that type of realistic optimist. He was always quick with a smile or a good word or support, someone who seemed to get it. I hadn't seen him since September when he'd visited New York, but we'd been friends online for more years than I can remember. We'd met through J-Date, he of the moniker Hip Lawyer Man LA and me of the Boogie Booginacious moniker. We'd worked opposite coasts but we'd both benefited by the fact that we just enjoyed interacting with others and enjoying every minute of every day. Once we finally had a chance to hang out in September of last year, I'm glad to note that he was the same generous, easy-going mensch in person that he had always been in the virtual world.
Going through the myriad minutae of Facebook, I suddenly discovered he passed away this past July 25th. "Neil? No, that can't be." Somehow I just couldn't believe it. It didn't seem to make any sense -- I'd spoken to him somewhat recently and he didn't mention he'd been ill and didn't seem to be off in any way. After some digging I'd confirmed what I was hoping I wouldn't. So many people left their thoughts and prayers and sympathies on his Facebook wall, and further prepared and posted entries about their thoughts on Neal's all-too-brief life. I'm still shocked and saddened by the fact that his is a life that is no more. I want to somehow believe that I'm not in reality and that tomorrow will bring news that this was all part of some alternate reality, one that he and I will laugh about the next time we meet up in NYC, whether at Vynl or somewhere uptown or wherever. We might even commiserate about the passing of Captain Lou Albano, the famed pro-wrestling personality we both admired in the 80's. Or just muse over the intricacies and vagaries of life in general.
Unfortunately, I know this won't be so. Of course my thoughts and prayers and sympathy extend to his family and friends, and I'm sure at some point I'll re-visit his wall and read through the additional comments from his other friends equally saddened by this news as am I. And each time I think of his easy-going smile and seeming happiness in this life, I'll hope that -- wherever he is -- he's happy and at peace and sharing his smile and his genuine good nature and generous spirit with whomever he's with.
Rest in peace, Neal...as much as I'm glad to have known you I'm sad that your time here was so brief. One thing I know for sure -- whether yesterday, today or the tomorrow that is yet to come -- you'll be smiling and so will be whomever you're with.
-B-
Thursday, August 05, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
It's Been Awhile...I Think
Despite not having visited these pages in something close to five weeks -- for which I apologize -- I've been a busy Boogie. Between work, the weather and weekend entertainment -- which three categories frequently blend together in part or completely -- it's been increasingly difficult to stop by these pages for introspection and extroversion.
However, in a nutshell, what's been happening is significant -- as per usual -- so I'll try and piece together some of the past five weeks in rapid-fire mode so as not to self-induce sleep and to ensure you, the reader, manages to escape these pages unscathed.
First and foremost, work has been intense. The intensity of which I speak isn't a bad thing, mind you -- I like having a lot of balls in the air, so to speak. The problem is it's increasingly like running up a down escalator (or is that running down an up escalator?). It feels, at least after some days, that more was piled on than I was able to address and resolve.
I 'spose that's relatively worrisome, except that there are days -- and even weeks -- that typically feel like that. But I don't worry as I do catch up. The large majority of my clients are pleased or -- at the very least -- know we're doing all we can to keep their interests front and center. Several of our clients are unhappy with things we're doing for them but not with our service per se. Unfortunately, if only it were as easy as snapping my fingers, I'd have happy clients all over the place. Most of our clients aren't unhappy, but they're under pressure and relying on us to help alleviate that pressure. And we do everything we can to do so. The problem is city bureaucracy isn't as cooperative and eager to get things done as are we. Thankfully we're making progress on our most pressing matters and getting things done. And despite the fact we have many happy clients, it's our resolution of the hardest situations that pleases me the most. Put another way, it's not enough to get the little stuff done; it's knocking the most challenging stuff out of the park that is the most rewarding.
Meanwhile, I've been spending weekends trying to catch up with work and avoiding the weather. NYC in July is typically hot; this summer has been well beyond the simple hot and is approaching scorching. There's nothing wrong with a few days over 90 degrees, especially given the fact that the City dresses down on these extraordinarily hot days. However, the problem is when the subway platforms approach 115 and there are homeless guys violating public indecency codes and the waft of urine and garbage coincide with said public indecency; that makes it hard to justify the age-old "I Love New York" jingle. Further, when walking out of the apartment feels as much a chore in this weather as it does in late, frigid February, the same cabin fever sets in. Friends of mine have houses in Fire Island, the Jersey Shore, the Hamptons and elsewhere; but inasmuch as I'd love to escape the City for a weekend, it's just easier staying put, getting stuff done and moving forward...as long as the A/C is cranked, my PC is humming along without feeling like a full-tilt, illuminated space heater and I don't feel the need to get a cold compress as my first order of business for the day.
Technology-wise, I acquired two very nice items which I'm sure will be completely worthless in a year's time but -- for the time being, anyway -- make me almost as happy as my significant other. The first is the Western Digital media player known as WDTV Live +, and the other is the new Motorola Droid X.
The former is a small box that allows one to hook up a hard drive or computer to an audio/video receiver (or a TV) via HDMI, USB and/or network cable. The bottom line, of course, is that with enough cable and know-how, one can connect a hard drive filled with BluRay movies to a home theater system...which I've done. I've amassed about 600 or so DVD's and I've been loathe to reacquire these films on BluRay, so what I've done is sign up for Netflix -- every couple days they send me two of the 500 or so BluRay films I've got in my queue and I fire up the goodies and enjoy. I actually came across a site that allows one to exchange DVDs for BluRays of the same titles (eg send them The Shining DVD and, $5 later, receive a copy of The Shining on BluRay), so I have about 30 or so BluRays. I also managed to get a copy of a favorite of mine on BluRay from Amazon.com.uk called Who Dares Wins. That film is not high-brow or high quality, but it rocks me each time I watch it. It's about the SAS, so if you enjoy spy thrillers with anti-terrorist, military-esque films that kick ass and pull no punches -- and are willing to fire up a Region 2 disc -- have at it. Or give me an hour's notice and bring a six-pack of Blue Moon Ale.
The nice thing about the combination of the WDTV Live + Netflix is that one can get Netflix On Demand streaming movies. That means that anywhere from 5,000 to 10,000 Netflix films can be viewed at a moment's notice. The whole enterprise is simple, quick and painless, and for $20 a month, I'm planning on cutting my Time Warner premium channels in half.
And the other benefit of this particular device is being able to stream 1080p (HD) media with instant and immense gratification.
The second item in the two-part list, the Droid X, is a fairly significant acquisition not because of what it is but what it isn't.
I've been using Blackberry phones for five or so years now, and while they are relatively vanilla, boring and unsophisticated except when it comes to rock-solid email delivery, they are all of these things. Seeing a complete dearth of interesting Blackberry models and the increasing capability of Android phones, I finally decided to switch lanes and get one. Enter the Android operating system and the Motorola Droid X.
If you have no familiarity with this device, swing by this page at your earliest convenience. It's a relatively basic look at what this thing does. And without mimicking the campaign advertising this bad boy, the truth is these phone do everything. They handle email well -- but not as well as Blackberry -- and they do everything else as well if not better than the iPhone. I'm only really concerned with email delivery and the ability to access data sites, eg the NYC Department of Buildings (you asked). The Blackberry was woefully underpowered with respect to web access so this alternate path makes lots of sense. But much more importantly, this thing does everything else. It helps you find an address and gives you a 3-d navigation option (turn by turn), whether you're on foot, a bicycle, in a car or even underground. It serves as a book reader -- whether you're a Kindle, Nook or free-form ebook reader -- and can stream iTunes playlists fairly simply. It can find and download recipes, news, sports scores and all kinds of other data -- just like the iPhone -- except it does so quickly and without the shortcomings of a built-in battery or the ineptitude of an underpowered AT&T network. And it does all of this stuff incredibly well.
The downside, of course, is that it offers a large learning curve; however, each day I realize I was foolish to wait as long as I did to jump. If my prediction is right, Blackberry will be relegated to a corporate-only third-bit player in the smartphone market within five years if they don't do something -- quickly. And the fact that Android OS-capable phones have increased sales over the past six months at a staggering 350%, I'd be shocked if they don't overtake the entire market, including that of the iPhone.
Yes, I know the iPhone is landing on Verizon's network in January; yes, I know the iPhone has 750 million different apps, whereas there are only about 100,000 apps for the Android OS. And yes, I know the iPhone is simple. However, the Android is awesome, impresses me each day, and coupled with the software I've installed on mine, is really a solid business tool.
In short: part of not fearing technology is mastering it and using it to your advantage. Not so short: you need to know when to make changes so you're ahead of the curve rather than behind it.
Finally, I've found myself spending more and more time reading World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War -- it's relatively trashy and not going to challenge the reputations of Charles Dickens or Ernest Hemingway or Jackie Collins, but it is solid, well-written, entertaining, engaging, uber-creative and a far better distraction for bus commuting than the typical sounds, odors and sights common in public transportation. As should be obvious, I highly recommend it.
I also recommend "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" -- in both book and film form. I am about to begin reading the book, and the film -- which has a foreign-language (Swedish) soundtrack with English subtitles -- was amazing. It's not an easy viewing -- gritty, intense, and somewhat disturbing -- but it's really memorable and worthwhile. The fact it's being refilmed (in English) means that you should probably see the original version now before the same people who green-lighted "Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo" destroy this masterpiece.
More later -- if not sooner -- if you promise to try and stay awake.
-B-
However, in a nutshell, what's been happening is significant -- as per usual -- so I'll try and piece together some of the past five weeks in rapid-fire mode so as not to self-induce sleep and to ensure you, the reader, manages to escape these pages unscathed.
First and foremost, work has been intense. The intensity of which I speak isn't a bad thing, mind you -- I like having a lot of balls in the air, so to speak. The problem is it's increasingly like running up a down escalator (or is that running down an up escalator?). It feels, at least after some days, that more was piled on than I was able to address and resolve.
I 'spose that's relatively worrisome, except that there are days -- and even weeks -- that typically feel like that. But I don't worry as I do catch up. The large majority of my clients are pleased or -- at the very least -- know we're doing all we can to keep their interests front and center. Several of our clients are unhappy with things we're doing for them but not with our service per se. Unfortunately, if only it were as easy as snapping my fingers, I'd have happy clients all over the place. Most of our clients aren't unhappy, but they're under pressure and relying on us to help alleviate that pressure. And we do everything we can to do so. The problem is city bureaucracy isn't as cooperative and eager to get things done as are we. Thankfully we're making progress on our most pressing matters and getting things done. And despite the fact we have many happy clients, it's our resolution of the hardest situations that pleases me the most. Put another way, it's not enough to get the little stuff done; it's knocking the most challenging stuff out of the park that is the most rewarding.
Meanwhile, I've been spending weekends trying to catch up with work and avoiding the weather. NYC in July is typically hot; this summer has been well beyond the simple hot and is approaching scorching. There's nothing wrong with a few days over 90 degrees, especially given the fact that the City dresses down on these extraordinarily hot days. However, the problem is when the subway platforms approach 115 and there are homeless guys violating public indecency codes and the waft of urine and garbage coincide with said public indecency; that makes it hard to justify the age-old "I Love New York" jingle. Further, when walking out of the apartment feels as much a chore in this weather as it does in late, frigid February, the same cabin fever sets in. Friends of mine have houses in Fire Island, the Jersey Shore, the Hamptons and elsewhere; but inasmuch as I'd love to escape the City for a weekend, it's just easier staying put, getting stuff done and moving forward...as long as the A/C is cranked, my PC is humming along without feeling like a full-tilt, illuminated space heater and I don't feel the need to get a cold compress as my first order of business for the day.
Technology-wise, I acquired two very nice items which I'm sure will be completely worthless in a year's time but -- for the time being, anyway -- make me almost as happy as my significant other. The first is the Western Digital media player known as WDTV Live +, and the other is the new Motorola Droid X.
The former is a small box that allows one to hook up a hard drive or computer to an audio/video receiver (or a TV) via HDMI, USB and/or network cable. The bottom line, of course, is that with enough cable and know-how, one can connect a hard drive filled with BluRay movies to a home theater system...which I've done. I've amassed about 600 or so DVD's and I've been loathe to reacquire these films on BluRay, so what I've done is sign up for Netflix -- every couple days they send me two of the 500 or so BluRay films I've got in my queue and I fire up the goodies and enjoy. I actually came across a site that allows one to exchange DVDs for BluRays of the same titles (eg send them The Shining DVD and, $5 later, receive a copy of The Shining on BluRay), so I have about 30 or so BluRays. I also managed to get a copy of a favorite of mine on BluRay from Amazon.com.uk called Who Dares Wins. That film is not high-brow or high quality, but it rocks me each time I watch it. It's about the SAS, so if you enjoy spy thrillers with anti-terrorist, military-esque films that kick ass and pull no punches -- and are willing to fire up a Region 2 disc -- have at it. Or give me an hour's notice and bring a six-pack of Blue Moon Ale.
The nice thing about the combination of the WDTV Live + Netflix is that one can get Netflix On Demand streaming movies. That means that anywhere from 5,000 to 10,000 Netflix films can be viewed at a moment's notice. The whole enterprise is simple, quick and painless, and for $20 a month, I'm planning on cutting my Time Warner premium channels in half.
And the other benefit of this particular device is being able to stream 1080p (HD) media with instant and immense gratification.
The second item in the two-part list, the Droid X, is a fairly significant acquisition not because of what it is but what it isn't.
I've been using Blackberry phones for five or so years now, and while they are relatively vanilla, boring and unsophisticated except when it comes to rock-solid email delivery, they are all of these things. Seeing a complete dearth of interesting Blackberry models and the increasing capability of Android phones, I finally decided to switch lanes and get one. Enter the Android operating system and the Motorola Droid X.
If you have no familiarity with this device, swing by this page at your earliest convenience. It's a relatively basic look at what this thing does. And without mimicking the campaign advertising this bad boy, the truth is these phone do everything. They handle email well -- but not as well as Blackberry -- and they do everything else as well if not better than the iPhone. I'm only really concerned with email delivery and the ability to access data sites, eg the NYC Department of Buildings (you asked). The Blackberry was woefully underpowered with respect to web access so this alternate path makes lots of sense. But much more importantly, this thing does everything else. It helps you find an address and gives you a 3-d navigation option (turn by turn), whether you're on foot, a bicycle, in a car or even underground. It serves as a book reader -- whether you're a Kindle, Nook or free-form ebook reader -- and can stream iTunes playlists fairly simply. It can find and download recipes, news, sports scores and all kinds of other data -- just like the iPhone -- except it does so quickly and without the shortcomings of a built-in battery or the ineptitude of an underpowered AT&T network. And it does all of this stuff incredibly well.
The downside, of course, is that it offers a large learning curve; however, each day I realize I was foolish to wait as long as I did to jump. If my prediction is right, Blackberry will be relegated to a corporate-only third-bit player in the smartphone market within five years if they don't do something -- quickly. And the fact that Android OS-capable phones have increased sales over the past six months at a staggering 350%, I'd be shocked if they don't overtake the entire market, including that of the iPhone.
Yes, I know the iPhone is landing on Verizon's network in January; yes, I know the iPhone has 750 million different apps, whereas there are only about 100,000 apps for the Android OS. And yes, I know the iPhone is simple. However, the Android is awesome, impresses me each day, and coupled with the software I've installed on mine, is really a solid business tool.
In short: part of not fearing technology is mastering it and using it to your advantage. Not so short: you need to know when to make changes so you're ahead of the curve rather than behind it.
Finally, I've found myself spending more and more time reading World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War -- it's relatively trashy and not going to challenge the reputations of Charles Dickens or Ernest Hemingway or Jackie Collins, but it is solid, well-written, entertaining, engaging, uber-creative and a far better distraction for bus commuting than the typical sounds, odors and sights common in public transportation. As should be obvious, I highly recommend it.
I also recommend "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" -- in both book and film form. I am about to begin reading the book, and the film -- which has a foreign-language (Swedish) soundtrack with English subtitles -- was amazing. It's not an easy viewing -- gritty, intense, and somewhat disturbing -- but it's really memorable and worthwhile. The fact it's being refilmed (in English) means that you should probably see the original version now before the same people who green-lighted "Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo" destroy this masterpiece.
More later -- if not sooner -- if you promise to try and stay awake.
-B-
Thursday, June 03, 2010
The Smallest World Possible
Each day, whether due to the BP oil leak bleeding pollution into the Gulf, or the news about Israel’s blockade in Gaza, we’re reminded just how small the world has become.
It’s not because we receive news instantly instead of in daily or nightly feeds as was typical 20 or so years ago; and it’s not because emails, text messages and/or multimedia messages allow us to be witnesses to historical events unfolding.
It’s that where we were once isolated throughout the world, everyone is now united by one single, simple catalyst: the Internet. And while the instant appeal of this communication is a great and positive thing, it also serves to demonstrate how we all are world citizens. More importantly, it serves to demonstrate that people with common goals – be they beneficial or pernicious – who were once isolated can now commiserate and stoke the fires of their desires, good or bad.
The new “it” topic – at least for the next week or ten days – will undoubtedly be Israel’s handling of the Turkish flotillas that attempted to violate the Israeli blockade of Gaza. And while that particular incident was not a surprise for many, what will be even less so – and perhaps increasingly disappointing – is that the world will “re-up” and attempt to politically wear down the Israelis to lift their blockade of Gaza.
Another “aid” ship – this time carrying cement, toys, medical supplies and “educational materials” – will attempt to enter Gaza and break the Israeli blockade. And again, Israel has offered to permit the ship carrying these items – an Irish ship named the Rachel Corrie – to dock in Israel so Israel can a) screen the shipment; b) distribute the items; and c) protect itself from the mass influx of weapons and explosives smuggled through legitimate sources like “humanitarian missions” such as this one. The “Free Gaza Movement” organization is very vocal as they should be; there are issues in Gaza that need to be seen and examined. But the vocal aspect of their participation is to criticize Israel for its blockade, not to criticize the extremists who use these types of shipments to bring in weapons and other materials contrary to peace. Israel’s blockade isn’t intended to deny human rights to anyone, including her neighbors; if it were, then one would wonder why they would request any ship carrying aid materials dock in their port so they can handle the expense and responsibility of distributing this material.
Put another way, if the Israelis were the monsters most ignorant observers loudly proclaim they are, why would they offer to help in the distribution process?
And while we’re on the subject of asking very simple questions whose answers seem to elude the people striving for “Free Gaza,” if the Israeli blockade intended to injure the “peace activists” on those Turkish flotillas, why did the Israeli commandos who raided those ships do so carrying paint-ball guns rather than typical commando fare with live ammunition? Why didn’t they a) just fire on each ship from far enough away to avoid putting their commandos in danger? Obviously, they have demonstrated they – rightfully – are more interested in the survival of Israel than what people beyond her borders thinks. And why were “peaceful activists” armed on these vessels? And further, why did these “peaceful activists” attack the commandos? Please correct me if I’m mistaken, but as a peaceful person, if I’m a passenger on a ship en route to Gaza and commandos storm the boat on which I’m sailing, my first reaction would be to get my head down and avoid pissing them off. In fact, knowing the Israelis don’t mess around with their military, I’d be inclined to hide; my last inclination would be to attack them.
And the world is shocked that “peaceful activists” were injured or killed by a venomous group of Israeli commandos looking for blood?
Ridiculous at best; and complete bullshit at worst.
Not a shock, as per usual.
There’s a moral I learned as a child which I practice to this day: the moral is “don’t poke the sleeping bear.” Other ways of communicating this same concept is “let sleeping dogs lie,” and yet another is “don’t ripple the water.” These three phrases mean one and the same thing: don’t go looking for trouble. These Turkish ships – violating an Israeli blockade – opted to ignore Israel’s willingness to help with the humanitarian aid bound for Gaza. Israel’s blockade – unjustified to those who have nothing but disdain for Israel’s existence – is not illegal nor is it designed to mistreat its neighbors. Its goal is to limit and prevent the mass shipments of weapons – machine guns, missiles, explosives, and bomb materials – into the region. Ironic how “peaceful activists” not only attacked Israeli commandos, but fail to comprehend the rationale behind the blockade.
Even more ironic is that – since 1940 – these people who use “peace” as a war cry still haven’t learned not to poke the bear.
And frankly, only one thing is certain: they never will.
It’s not because we receive news instantly instead of in daily or nightly feeds as was typical 20 or so years ago; and it’s not because emails, text messages and/or multimedia messages allow us to be witnesses to historical events unfolding.
It’s that where we were once isolated throughout the world, everyone is now united by one single, simple catalyst: the Internet. And while the instant appeal of this communication is a great and positive thing, it also serves to demonstrate how we all are world citizens. More importantly, it serves to demonstrate that people with common goals – be they beneficial or pernicious – who were once isolated can now commiserate and stoke the fires of their desires, good or bad.
The new “it” topic – at least for the next week or ten days – will undoubtedly be Israel’s handling of the Turkish flotillas that attempted to violate the Israeli blockade of Gaza. And while that particular incident was not a surprise for many, what will be even less so – and perhaps increasingly disappointing – is that the world will “re-up” and attempt to politically wear down the Israelis to lift their blockade of Gaza.
Another “aid” ship – this time carrying cement, toys, medical supplies and “educational materials” – will attempt to enter Gaza and break the Israeli blockade. And again, Israel has offered to permit the ship carrying these items – an Irish ship named the Rachel Corrie – to dock in Israel so Israel can a) screen the shipment; b) distribute the items; and c) protect itself from the mass influx of weapons and explosives smuggled through legitimate sources like “humanitarian missions” such as this one. The “Free Gaza Movement” organization is very vocal as they should be; there are issues in Gaza that need to be seen and examined. But the vocal aspect of their participation is to criticize Israel for its blockade, not to criticize the extremists who use these types of shipments to bring in weapons and other materials contrary to peace. Israel’s blockade isn’t intended to deny human rights to anyone, including her neighbors; if it were, then one would wonder why they would request any ship carrying aid materials dock in their port so they can handle the expense and responsibility of distributing this material.
Put another way, if the Israelis were the monsters most ignorant observers loudly proclaim they are, why would they offer to help in the distribution process?
And while we’re on the subject of asking very simple questions whose answers seem to elude the people striving for “Free Gaza,” if the Israeli blockade intended to injure the “peace activists” on those Turkish flotillas, why did the Israeli commandos who raided those ships do so carrying paint-ball guns rather than typical commando fare with live ammunition? Why didn’t they a) just fire on each ship from far enough away to avoid putting their commandos in danger? Obviously, they have demonstrated they – rightfully – are more interested in the survival of Israel than what people beyond her borders thinks. And why were “peaceful activists” armed on these vessels? And further, why did these “peaceful activists” attack the commandos? Please correct me if I’m mistaken, but as a peaceful person, if I’m a passenger on a ship en route to Gaza and commandos storm the boat on which I’m sailing, my first reaction would be to get my head down and avoid pissing them off. In fact, knowing the Israelis don’t mess around with their military, I’d be inclined to hide; my last inclination would be to attack them.
And the world is shocked that “peaceful activists” were injured or killed by a venomous group of Israeli commandos looking for blood?
Ridiculous at best; and complete bullshit at worst.
Not a shock, as per usual.
There’s a moral I learned as a child which I practice to this day: the moral is “don’t poke the sleeping bear.” Other ways of communicating this same concept is “let sleeping dogs lie,” and yet another is “don’t ripple the water.” These three phrases mean one and the same thing: don’t go looking for trouble. These Turkish ships – violating an Israeli blockade – opted to ignore Israel’s willingness to help with the humanitarian aid bound for Gaza. Israel’s blockade – unjustified to those who have nothing but disdain for Israel’s existence – is not illegal nor is it designed to mistreat its neighbors. Its goal is to limit and prevent the mass shipments of weapons – machine guns, missiles, explosives, and bomb materials – into the region. Ironic how “peaceful activists” not only attacked Israeli commandos, but fail to comprehend the rationale behind the blockade.
Even more ironic is that – since 1940 – these people who use “peace” as a war cry still haven’t learned not to poke the bear.
And frankly, only one thing is certain: they never will.
Monday, May 10, 2010
A Holiday of Thanks
Being that it's May -- and not November -- some of you might be puzzled as to why I'd be going there now so far in advance of The Official Day of Thanks, aka Thanksgiving. I can run it down for you in several boring, bloated paragraphs, but I can sum it up nicely by observing as follows: I am thankful for days -- and weekends -- like these, and I take every opportunity to take a step back and say so when/if applicable.
Back to the bloat.
This weekend was different and special in a multitude of ways. First, our typical Friday night hang at Little Shop of Crafty Bastages -- at 94th and Amsterdam -- was spontaneously and suddenly canceled. Several sub-groups within the group had shit happening, and while I was ready -- post-PC office upgrade -- to make my way uptown, most everyone decided to bail, so we all opted to go our separate ways. So my substitution was an especially exciting one -- finish remote upgrade of the PC, do some additional office work at home, and fall asleep at the computer.
Joy.
Saturday was a half-free day; the morning was more work, organization and some basic planning, and the afternoon was heading to Astoria to a wine bar to celebrate Kelcey & Keith's wedding shower. Food was called pot-luck optional, so I -- like several other party attendees -- whipped up a garden veggie/spinach/tomato dip and scored two bags each of yellow and blue organic corn tortilla chips. Judging by the fact that I either made way too much or people didn't dig on it -- or a combination thereof -- I got to bring some home later and enjoy my handiwork.
But more importantly, the party was a load of fun -- the entire group was mellow and the location was awesome (props to Dallas, the party planner) and it was a load of fun and really wonderful celebrating with the soon-to-be wed couple.
I got home late and made cookies in preparation for my visit to see my grandmother and the family for Sunday's Mother Day celebration, which was also a lot of fun. We don't get together often, but when we do -- and I join, schedule-permitting -- it's always great. Today was no exception. I feel badly for people who have little or no family, and even moreso for people who don't have the opportunity to kick back with some regularity with their near/far family. Today was a lot of fun, and since my mom's having surgery this week -- and the 18th is my grandmother's 90th birthday -- being thankful for these kinds of days/weekends is appropriate. Put another way, not every day is awesome -- so when I have two or three of those days -- consecutively -- I don't miss a chance to be thankful.
We're all entitled to complain -- but I try to go 2-to-1 on the complain vs. appreciation ration. And today -- and this entire weekend -- definitely skewed that ratio -- in the right direction.
-B-
Back to the bloat.
This weekend was different and special in a multitude of ways. First, our typical Friday night hang at Little Shop of Crafty Bastages -- at 94th and Amsterdam -- was spontaneously and suddenly canceled. Several sub-groups within the group had shit happening, and while I was ready -- post-PC office upgrade -- to make my way uptown, most everyone decided to bail, so we all opted to go our separate ways. So my substitution was an especially exciting one -- finish remote upgrade of the PC, do some additional office work at home, and fall asleep at the computer.
Joy.
Saturday was a half-free day; the morning was more work, organization and some basic planning, and the afternoon was heading to Astoria to a wine bar to celebrate Kelcey & Keith's wedding shower. Food was called pot-luck optional, so I -- like several other party attendees -- whipped up a garden veggie/spinach/tomato dip and scored two bags each of yellow and blue organic corn tortilla chips. Judging by the fact that I either made way too much or people didn't dig on it -- or a combination thereof -- I got to bring some home later and enjoy my handiwork.
But more importantly, the party was a load of fun -- the entire group was mellow and the location was awesome (props to Dallas, the party planner) and it was a load of fun and really wonderful celebrating with the soon-to-be wed couple.
I got home late and made cookies in preparation for my visit to see my grandmother and the family for Sunday's Mother Day celebration, which was also a lot of fun. We don't get together often, but when we do -- and I join, schedule-permitting -- it's always great. Today was no exception. I feel badly for people who have little or no family, and even moreso for people who don't have the opportunity to kick back with some regularity with their near/far family. Today was a lot of fun, and since my mom's having surgery this week -- and the 18th is my grandmother's 90th birthday -- being thankful for these kinds of days/weekends is appropriate. Put another way, not every day is awesome -- so when I have two or three of those days -- consecutively -- I don't miss a chance to be thankful.
We're all entitled to complain -- but I try to go 2-to-1 on the complain vs. appreciation ration. And today -- and this entire weekend -- definitely skewed that ratio -- in the right direction.
-B-
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
The Screen Goes Dark
As our days become increasingly full and our responsibilities grow -- both to ourselves and to others -- we find, with greater frequency, that some things are more important than others, and those things which we once deemed of the highest importance become less so. As we get older -- whether it's attending junior high school or college or a first job or a new job or the birth of a child or the death of a grandparent or a parent -- we are prone to realize things aren't in black and white but in gray, and increasingly things that are important are not nearly as easily-cateogirzed as they once were.
The only absolutes in our daily existence which -- unfortunately -- will never change are the man-made constructs and the stark reality of life and death.
I came across a story on CNN.com of a 25-year old woman, Eva Markvoort, who was afflicted with cystic fibrosis. It touched me on several levels; first, because the article was posthumous. Second, it was about how terminally-ill people are using the internet to reach out to others -- both people with the same affliction(s) and those who might benefit from the knowledge the terminal patient may impart; and, finally, I had a friend who lost her battle with cystic fibrosis at a young age (typical for CF victims).
On a purely clinical level, it's interesting observing this trend within the setting of our ever-evolving existence of increased virtual social interaction and our ever-increasing isolation from non-virtual contact. Put another way, it's interesting that our lives are not only becoming less and less about actual physical
interaction but increasingly so are our deaths. We can access a literally infinite number of humans without leaving our desk chairs; and we no longer have to visit a cancer ward to see terminally ill children, adults and geriatrics from any and all walks of life.
I'm not mourning or lamenting this fact; I'm not sure if this is a good thing, a bad thing, or even how I should feel about this aspect of Eva Markvoort's story as an example of this phenomenon.
I do think it's a good thing -- within a limited scope -- that people can search online for others' experiences facing terminal illness. As a child, hearing that someone died of a heart attack or cancer or something medical (ie not via a car accident or pulling a bank heist) inspires fear of these things. However, as we get older and we learn more -- about these various medical calamities -- they become less frightening or more things with which we can either cope or at least face. In some cases, we can even defeat them.
But facing these foes head-on -- whether with or without fear -- is probably more necessary than anything else, aside from medical care and self-responsibility.
I'm not sure, again, how this newly-minted type of quasi-interaction will affect us in the future; is there really any difference between handwritten journals chronicling the end of one's life and those composed via keyboard? Whether these memoirs are on paper or on a backlit screen? And whether these journals are kept along with the other miscellaneous crap one accumulates over the course of a life and a death, in a box or a container in someone's attic, or somewhere in a blog database, searchable with keywords like metastic tumor, malignant and/or inoperable?
Regardless of my opinion on this -- if, quite frankly, I had one -- I think that part of the key to life is one's death. Dignity, above all other things, should be maintained for anyone who, essentially, sees their time on this Earth dwindling. It should be noted that while we all -- consciously and otherwise -- know not only that today could be our last day on Earth, and each day we live brings us one day closer to death. However, those whose ends are near and in close proximity can and should do whatever they feel brings them the appropriate closure. I am an optimist and while I hope I never have to contemplate these concepts for myself personally, reviewing this story forced me to do so on a personal level, which is relatively uncomfortable. It's sort of like visiting an organization that sells cemetery plots and headstones; these are not experiences we enjoy but those we must, at some point in our lives, do.
Finally, back to Eva Markvoort's story and her contribution: Whether or not we improve our ability for curing cystic fibrosis or another terminal illness is not the only factor here. Her story, on some level, is our story; absorbing her personal experience makes her life that much more important, and especially for those of us who didn't know her personally, it allows her voice to remain alive and to help those of us who need that help, whether it's for personal illness or for past experience.
Put another way, I can't bring myself to delete the names from my contact list of those people who have passed away. There are not many of them, I'm pleased to admit, but every time I come across their names -- in the list, or in archived email -- it reminds me of them and, even for a second or two, forces me to pause reflect about my memories of them and their experiences.
And, most importantly, allows me to remember them as people and not just names and pixels on a backlit screen on a soon-to-be relocated page.
The only absolutes in our daily existence which -- unfortunately -- will never change are the man-made constructs and the stark reality of life and death.
I came across a story on CNN.com of a 25-year old woman, Eva Markvoort, who was afflicted with cystic fibrosis. It touched me on several levels; first, because the article was posthumous. Second, it was about how terminally-ill people are using the internet to reach out to others -- both people with the same affliction(s) and those who might benefit from the knowledge the terminal patient may impart; and, finally, I had a friend who lost her battle with cystic fibrosis at a young age (typical for CF victims).
On a purely clinical level, it's interesting observing this trend within the setting of our ever-evolving existence of increased virtual social interaction and our ever-increasing isolation from non-virtual contact. Put another way, it's interesting that our lives are not only becoming less and less about actual physical
interaction but increasingly so are our deaths. We can access a literally infinite number of humans without leaving our desk chairs; and we no longer have to visit a cancer ward to see terminally ill children, adults and geriatrics from any and all walks of life.
I'm not mourning or lamenting this fact; I'm not sure if this is a good thing, a bad thing, or even how I should feel about this aspect of Eva Markvoort's story as an example of this phenomenon.
I do think it's a good thing -- within a limited scope -- that people can search online for others' experiences facing terminal illness. As a child, hearing that someone died of a heart attack or cancer or something medical (ie not via a car accident or pulling a bank heist) inspires fear of these things. However, as we get older and we learn more -- about these various medical calamities -- they become less frightening or more things with which we can either cope or at least face. In some cases, we can even defeat them.
But facing these foes head-on -- whether with or without fear -- is probably more necessary than anything else, aside from medical care and self-responsibility.
I'm not sure, again, how this newly-minted type of quasi-interaction will affect us in the future; is there really any difference between handwritten journals chronicling the end of one's life and those composed via keyboard? Whether these memoirs are on paper or on a backlit screen? And whether these journals are kept along with the other miscellaneous crap one accumulates over the course of a life and a death, in a box or a container in someone's attic, or somewhere in a blog database, searchable with keywords like metastic tumor, malignant and/or inoperable?
Regardless of my opinion on this -- if, quite frankly, I had one -- I think that part of the key to life is one's death. Dignity, above all other things, should be maintained for anyone who, essentially, sees their time on this Earth dwindling. It should be noted that while we all -- consciously and otherwise -- know not only that today could be our last day on Earth, and each day we live brings us one day closer to death. However, those whose ends are near and in close proximity can and should do whatever they feel brings them the appropriate closure. I am an optimist and while I hope I never have to contemplate these concepts for myself personally, reviewing this story forced me to do so on a personal level, which is relatively uncomfortable. It's sort of like visiting an organization that sells cemetery plots and headstones; these are not experiences we enjoy but those we must, at some point in our lives, do.
Finally, back to Eva Markvoort's story and her contribution: Whether or not we improve our ability for curing cystic fibrosis or another terminal illness is not the only factor here. Her story, on some level, is our story; absorbing her personal experience makes her life that much more important, and especially for those of us who didn't know her personally, it allows her voice to remain alive and to help those of us who need that help, whether it's for personal illness or for past experience.
Put another way, I can't bring myself to delete the names from my contact list of those people who have passed away. There are not many of them, I'm pleased to admit, but every time I come across their names -- in the list, or in archived email -- it reminds me of them and, even for a second or two, forces me to pause reflect about my memories of them and their experiences.
And, most importantly, allows me to remember them as people and not just names and pixels on a backlit screen on a soon-to-be relocated page.
Monday, April 12, 2010
A Day To Remember - 4/11/10
The irony of the plane crash that claimed the lives of over 100 people, including Polish President Lech Kaczynski and several other high-ranking Polish officials, is that it happened so close to this particular day, which in Hebrew is known as Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day.
Directly or otherwise, every Jewish person on the planet lost someone during the Holocaust. It's particularly unavoidable knowing that 6,000,000 Jews -- as well as millions of non-Jews -- were exterminated due one individual's distrust, paranoia and twisted, grotesque vision of the world. And yet I am sure there are Jews out there -- perhaps even reading this -- whose attitude regarding this day equates to "What's the difference?"
I'm not answering the Four Questions in this space or anywhere else; but given the political situation the world is in these days -- an administration in Washington, DC, that seems headed towards forsaking -- or at least altering -- the relationship this nation has continually held with the state of Israel; the nuclear ambitions of rogue nation-states like Iran and North Korea; the nuclear -- and mass-scale -- ambitions of radical Islam, evidenced by Al Qaeda, Hezbollah and Hamas; and the general apathy exhibited by many people in this nation, both Jewish and non-Jewish -- is particular disconcerting.
The other night I had a discussion with friends about whether interrogation torture -- as employed by the CIA -- should have a place in our legit tactics. We debated -- for some time -- whether torture should be practiced or forbidden (waterboarding, psychological torture, etc.). There were six in our group and I believe I was the only one who supported the use of torture tactics in policy if the end result was the saving of lives (American or otherwise). The rest of the group was morally repulsed by the notion that torture ever had a place in our obtaining of intelligence and felt these tactics should be banned.
The reason why I bring this up -- although it didn't occur to me at the time -- was that in this modern era of gray (as opposed to black and white), how can we ensure that another Holocaust, of people or of an entire nation, not repeat itself? How can we not compare Hitler and Osama bin Laden? Despite the fact their goals are, largely, the same, what's the difference if one uses concentration camps and another hopes to somehow obtain a nuclear weapon and kill millions in one huge blast rather than over a ten-year period? Vis-a-vis torture, if we have a method which -- as repulsive as it is -- can save lives, shouldn't we explore and endeavor to use those methods which can help us accomplish this task?
Or should we aspire to a noble, proper cause, much akin to English policemen ("bobbies") walking around the streets of London unarmed?
Inasmuch as the world today is a far more disturbing place than it was prior to 1939, it seems to me that while I agree that torture is a repulsive tactic, I think we must meet the challenges we face to ensure another Holocaust -- of Jews, or anyone else -- never occurs. Prior to 1939, the US distaste for war precluded us from involvement in World War II, deeming it repulsive -- much like many today feel about torture -- yet had the US gotten involved before 1939 (without the prodding from Japan but of our own volition and on our own terms) perhaps the death of 6,000,000 would be far less, if not happened at all.
My point is not to accuse or admonish or condescend; however, whether it's war, torture or a medical tactic -- such as chemotherapy -- once we acknowledge there is a repulsive threat, we need to be willing -- and act -- to repel said repulsive threat, and be willing to do so with whatever means necessary, even if some of same are almost as -- if not moreso -- morally repugnant as the threat we face.
Never again.
Directly or otherwise, every Jewish person on the planet lost someone during the Holocaust. It's particularly unavoidable knowing that 6,000,000 Jews -- as well as millions of non-Jews -- were exterminated due one individual's distrust, paranoia and twisted, grotesque vision of the world. And yet I am sure there are Jews out there -- perhaps even reading this -- whose attitude regarding this day equates to "What's the difference?"
I'm not answering the Four Questions in this space or anywhere else; but given the political situation the world is in these days -- an administration in Washington, DC, that seems headed towards forsaking -- or at least altering -- the relationship this nation has continually held with the state of Israel; the nuclear ambitions of rogue nation-states like Iran and North Korea; the nuclear -- and mass-scale -- ambitions of radical Islam, evidenced by Al Qaeda, Hezbollah and Hamas; and the general apathy exhibited by many people in this nation, both Jewish and non-Jewish -- is particular disconcerting.
The other night I had a discussion with friends about whether interrogation torture -- as employed by the CIA -- should have a place in our legit tactics. We debated -- for some time -- whether torture should be practiced or forbidden (waterboarding, psychological torture, etc.). There were six in our group and I believe I was the only one who supported the use of torture tactics in policy if the end result was the saving of lives (American or otherwise). The rest of the group was morally repulsed by the notion that torture ever had a place in our obtaining of intelligence and felt these tactics should be banned.
The reason why I bring this up -- although it didn't occur to me at the time -- was that in this modern era of gray (as opposed to black and white), how can we ensure that another Holocaust, of people or of an entire nation, not repeat itself? How can we not compare Hitler and Osama bin Laden? Despite the fact their goals are, largely, the same, what's the difference if one uses concentration camps and another hopes to somehow obtain a nuclear weapon and kill millions in one huge blast rather than over a ten-year period? Vis-a-vis torture, if we have a method which -- as repulsive as it is -- can save lives, shouldn't we explore and endeavor to use those methods which can help us accomplish this task?
Or should we aspire to a noble, proper cause, much akin to English policemen ("bobbies") walking around the streets of London unarmed?
Inasmuch as the world today is a far more disturbing place than it was prior to 1939, it seems to me that while I agree that torture is a repulsive tactic, I think we must meet the challenges we face to ensure another Holocaust -- of Jews, or anyone else -- never occurs. Prior to 1939, the US distaste for war precluded us from involvement in World War II, deeming it repulsive -- much like many today feel about torture -- yet had the US gotten involved before 1939 (without the prodding from Japan but of our own volition and on our own terms) perhaps the death of 6,000,000 would be far less, if not happened at all.
My point is not to accuse or admonish or condescend; however, whether it's war, torture or a medical tactic -- such as chemotherapy -- once we acknowledge there is a repulsive threat, we need to be willing -- and act -- to repel said repulsive threat, and be willing to do so with whatever means necessary, even if some of same are almost as -- if not moreso -- morally repugnant as the threat we face.
Never again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
