We all have them in our lives.
People we admire, love, respect. Friends who have played important roles in your life, even if you don't always remind them of that, or even get together for drinks as often as you should.
Life has a funny way of putting you where you need to be, when you need to be there.
I received an invitation to a party for a friend named Renee. Renee and I used to both be in the teaching business, and then in the yearbook business. She and I have managed to stay in touch, but we're separated by so many miles (25) that I never get to see her, except a couple of times a year.
The people organizing the party were people I had known in various capacities — the fellow teachers and advisers (Peggy, Cindy, etc.) and some yearbook business folk (Tina, Brad). The host was Bobby, a mentor that I am proud to call a friend.
At the party Thursday evening, we ate, laughed, caught up and had a generally great time. And it made me think of the butterfly effect — how a chance encounter or event led me to meet these remarkable people — and what the future holds.
The person I've known there the longest is also one of the few people that I consider a hero. Bobby is a legend in his chosen fields (writing, education and journalism) but he easily could have excelled at anything, from being a record A&R exec to being one of the best-read writers of modern times. Instead, Bobby turned his career early on into working with youth in scholastic journalism, focusing on Texas.
I met Bobby when I was a high school freshman in 1989. He presented me with an award for winning a state contest. He had given a speech before the contest that was laced with dry humor that I found refreshing, especially in a situation so tense (to a 15-year-old). So at the next convention where Bobby was a speaker, I made it a point to attend. And I loved it — so much that I kept going each year, and later when I became a teacher, I would send my students to hear him in whatever standing-room only room he was in.
But in between, when I was in college, Bobby's office was about two blocks from my dorm. Being the geeky fan that I was (am), I would walk into his office without any kind of appointment. Today we would probably consider it stalking. But back then, I guess Bobby sensed that I was harmless enough and that I really just admired everything he did and how he did it. He let the annoying college kid hang out in the office, and even gave the kid some work to do. I imagine it's how an aspiring pianist would feel meeting Elton John — awe and gratitude.
So Thursday was an intense recharging and a long moment of geek — not only was I in Bobby's house (!), I got to see his collections, hear the stories and get to know him just that much better. After 23 years (!), he's even more "real" than a lot of people I know, and full of more wisdom than ever before. Note: When someone who has shaped your life and career offers you the chance to visit their home, do it.
That energy was carried on by others, like Peggy. I met Peggy when my university sent me to her classroom for student teaching. She was one of the top teachers in her field in the state at that time, and I had no idea until i got there. I was grateful for the opportunity, but I was truly taken aback by how honestly friendly she was. She took me under her wing and included me in everything she did. She let me practically run the show with the newspaper staff, and was willing to try new ideas. She was — no — is a carefree spirit who always manages to have a smile and words of encouragement, despite having been through all sorts of political turmoil related to her doing her job well. She's tough when she needs to be, but always makes time for hugs and laughter. I'm grateful to still call her a friend after 16 years.
Then there's Renee. Renee is maybe a year older than I am, but her spirit is timeless. Since we're about a year apart, we share a lot of experiences. And our careers had striking parallels. We went to the same university, both student taught at the same place, ended up teaching at the same time, and both left to work for the same publishing company. And in the time I got to know Renee, I went from simple friendship to true admiration. She is one of those people you can't help but like — her smile is infectious (ask anyone) and she always has a super-friendly demeanor about her that sometimes belies how smart she is. It's hard to think of someone more with more honest-to-goodness charm than Renee. I was grateful to get the invitation to celebrate her career, because she's someone I hope to maintain a long-term friendship with.
There were others at the party who I look up to (Cindy), who have always been welcoming to me (Sharon, Jeanne, Tina and everyone else) and a few that I don't know as well yet, but hope to some day.
It's not often I blog anymore (as you may have noticed), but being in the presence of all that talent, all that creativity and all that love for each other and passion for their craft... well, I had to find an outlet for it. I can say "thank you" to them individually, but I want it written somewhere that each person I mentioned has played a role in my life and getting me to where I am today. And for that I'm truly grateful.
I sometimes wonder (and get asked) if I'll go back to my old career of being back in the classroom. The truth is, I don't think I could stand it anymore. I do miss working with the students and having our own business, but I don't miss the paperwork, bureaucracy and parental headaches. (That's a separate post.)
I may never go back and sit down behind that Mac again with a group of high school kids, but it doesn't matter, because I've been fortunate enough to meet a series of people who have made it all worthwhile.
Here's to even more decades of continued friendship, and having those guiding forces in my life to help me muddle through.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Maher: Unprecedented disrespect of Obama
From Bill Maher/HBO:
"There is something about this president that makes conservatives think it’s okay to go ape shit in his presence. They didn’t do this Carter, an actual pacifist, or Clinton who really did have a plan for universal health care, or LBJ, who actually made it easier for poor people to vote and eat. All of them clearly, evil America haters, but they got treated with a modicum of respect, at least to their faces.
Not Obama. What can it be that’s different about him?
It’s either his race, or it’s your brain chemistry, or it’s something that happened when you dad spanked you and liked it, and you were looking at a box of Cream of Wheat. I don’t know. I’m not a therapist. Maybe, it’s not race? I don’t know what’s in people’s hearts. Except Newt Gingrich, I know what’s in his heart, lust and cheese fries.
But this type of in the room, in your face, in your space respect disrespect is new. Admit that, and I will admit that of course, something like impeaching Clinton was far more serious, but it was also at least in some ways more respectful. It was done with high pomp through official channels. It was all about the rule of law, and the Chief Justice wore a special robe he got from a musical, or something, and somehow that is a lot more respectful than this.
Not that if Obama ever did anything like Clinton did, he would even be alive. Can you imagine what they would do if they ever found out Obama had sex with a White House intern on Easter? Talk about colored eggs. He would have been impeached two times, one for each testicle. This president has had to be the Caesar’s wife of Pennsylvania Avenue, the Jackie Robinson of American politics, never reacting to the taunts from the stands. But after you do this to try to get his goat, what’s next? A wedgie? A purple nurple?
Gov. Brewer said she did this because she felt threatened. Right, like Obama ran his finger down his blouse and said, ‘you my white princess.’
The right has shown Obama nothing but disrespect since the moment he took office. Their hatred of the man who occupies the Oval Office has become so common place that it is now newsworthy when a Republican doesn’t disrespect Obama. What a sad state of affairs. Obama came into office under the mistaken belief that at even if his opponents disagreed with him, they would still show respect for the office that he holds.
The reality is that Republicans were not just angry that they lost the presidential election. After the economy collapsed, this was expected. No, the right hates President Obama for a different reason. Obama represents something that Carter, Clinton, LBJ, JFK, Truman, and FDR never did. Obama represents a threat to their power as white men.
Every time his conservative foes see President Obama, they are reminded that our nation is changing. When the see the black man occupying the White House they are confronted by their loss of power. The White Republicans feel entitled to the presidency. It is their unfailing belief in their own superiority that is the basis behind their obsession with criticizing Obama as incompetent at every turn. If they can only make America belief that the black president is incompetent then they can be restored to their god given position of lord and master over us all.
It’s not Obama’s dark skin, but what his dark skin represents that evokes hatred without bounds and limits. President Obama’s power of them and the realization that their status as a privileged class is coming to an end are the real reasons why they disrespect President Obama.
Hatred is the fuel of fear, and for white conservatives their hatred of Obama masks the fear attached to the realization that their America is never coming back."
"There is something about this president that makes conservatives think it’s okay to go ape shit in his presence. They didn’t do this Carter, an actual pacifist, or Clinton who really did have a plan for universal health care, or LBJ, who actually made it easier for poor people to vote and eat. All of them clearly, evil America haters, but they got treated with a modicum of respect, at least to their faces.
Not Obama. What can it be that’s different about him?
It’s either his race, or it’s your brain chemistry, or it’s something that happened when you dad spanked you and liked it, and you were looking at a box of Cream of Wheat. I don’t know. I’m not a therapist. Maybe, it’s not race? I don’t know what’s in people’s hearts. Except Newt Gingrich, I know what’s in his heart, lust and cheese fries.
But this type of in the room, in your face, in your space respect disrespect is new. Admit that, and I will admit that of course, something like impeaching Clinton was far more serious, but it was also at least in some ways more respectful. It was done with high pomp through official channels. It was all about the rule of law, and the Chief Justice wore a special robe he got from a musical, or something, and somehow that is a lot more respectful than this.
Not that if Obama ever did anything like Clinton did, he would even be alive. Can you imagine what they would do if they ever found out Obama had sex with a White House intern on Easter? Talk about colored eggs. He would have been impeached two times, one for each testicle. This president has had to be the Caesar’s wife of Pennsylvania Avenue, the Jackie Robinson of American politics, never reacting to the taunts from the stands. But after you do this to try to get his goat, what’s next? A wedgie? A purple nurple?
Gov. Brewer said she did this because she felt threatened. Right, like Obama ran his finger down his blouse and said, ‘you my white princess.’
The right has shown Obama nothing but disrespect since the moment he took office. Their hatred of the man who occupies the Oval Office has become so common place that it is now newsworthy when a Republican doesn’t disrespect Obama. What a sad state of affairs. Obama came into office under the mistaken belief that at even if his opponents disagreed with him, they would still show respect for the office that he holds.
The reality is that Republicans were not just angry that they lost the presidential election. After the economy collapsed, this was expected. No, the right hates President Obama for a different reason. Obama represents something that Carter, Clinton, LBJ, JFK, Truman, and FDR never did. Obama represents a threat to their power as white men.
Every time his conservative foes see President Obama, they are reminded that our nation is changing. When the see the black man occupying the White House they are confronted by their loss of power. The White Republicans feel entitled to the presidency. It is their unfailing belief in their own superiority that is the basis behind their obsession with criticizing Obama as incompetent at every turn. If they can only make America belief that the black president is incompetent then they can be restored to their god given position of lord and master over us all.
It’s not Obama’s dark skin, but what his dark skin represents that evokes hatred without bounds and limits. President Obama’s power of them and the realization that their status as a privileged class is coming to an end are the real reasons why they disrespect President Obama.
Hatred is the fuel of fear, and for white conservatives their hatred of Obama masks the fear attached to the realization that their America is never coming back."
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Use quercetin to avoid the niacin flush
If you're taking niacin (or Niaspan™ extended release niacin) for cholesterol, you may have already noticed the famed "niacin flush." It literally feels as though you are sunburned and itchy from the inside... intense heat and redness, followed by itching. It disappears in time, but it's miserable.
It's primarily a prostaglandin response, which means antihistamines don't work. Most doctors recommend taking aspirin about 30 minutes prior to taking your niacin which does work — it reduces or eliminates the flush about 30 percent of the time.
I discovered a more effective anti-flushing agent. Meet quercetin, a naturally-occurring bioflavonoid that acts as an anti-inflammatory. Found in citrus fruits and in apple peels, this chemical blocks the niacin flush about 90 percent of the time! And I say this as having been someone who tried it and is happy with it.
You can buy quercetin at any health food store, or even online. I take 1000mg right before my Niaspan dose of 1500mg at night.
Read the medical research abstract here.
------
UPDATE: a month later, I write to tell you that just as well as quercetin worked for me, it stopped working. I would wake up at 3 a.m. with itching... so I would take an aspirin. The funny thing is that after weeks of quercetin, the aspirin had this amazing effect: it worked better than it ever did before on preventing flushing. As we type this, I took 2000mg of Niaspan last night with half a 325mg tablet of aspirin, and slept like a baby. No itching that I know of.
It's primarily a prostaglandin response, which means antihistamines don't work. Most doctors recommend taking aspirin about 30 minutes prior to taking your niacin which does work — it reduces or eliminates the flush about 30 percent of the time.
I discovered a more effective anti-flushing agent. Meet quercetin, a naturally-occurring bioflavonoid that acts as an anti-inflammatory. Found in citrus fruits and in apple peels, this chemical blocks the niacin flush about 90 percent of the time! And I say this as having been someone who tried it and is happy with it.
You can buy quercetin at any health food store, or even online. I take 1000mg right before my Niaspan dose of 1500mg at night.
Read the medical research abstract here.
------
UPDATE: a month later, I write to tell you that just as well as quercetin worked for me, it stopped working. I would wake up at 3 a.m. with itching... so I would take an aspirin. The funny thing is that after weeks of quercetin, the aspirin had this amazing effect: it worked better than it ever did before on preventing flushing. As we type this, I took 2000mg of Niaspan last night with half a 325mg tablet of aspirin, and slept like a baby. No itching that I know of.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Why USPS will continue to fail, and how banks can survive
I want to root for the United States Postal Service. I truly do.
Who (over the age of 18) doesn't remember getting a long-awaited letter in the mail? Who hasn't smiled as a postcard from a far-away locale? Mail is part of our collective memories.
For me, it goes even further — I've known several people who work for USPS.
But after this week, I'm going to commit to using USPS as little as possible. I've got e-mail, a fax line and FedEx at my disposal. Don't mail me; I might not reply.
I needed to send a check overnight to my bank, which has a P.O. box., so I used the USPS's online "Click-N-Ship" online service to print a label. For $18, my postage printed, and all I had to do was drop it off.
I printed out the label on Monday, Jan. 16, a holiday. I swung by my local post office on Tuesday morning around 9 a.m. and dropped the Express Mail envelope in the clearly-marked Express Mail drop box outside. Cut-off time was 5 p.m.; I had made it with several hours.
So I was a little pissed when I looked the next morning to find that my package hadn't even been scanned yet. I was busy with work, so I checked later that day to find out that it was scanned around 1 p.m. that day — still here in Austin. more than 24 hours had gone by and the package hadn't moved!
I called the USPS toll-free number, which is akin to one of those hedge mazes, talked to four different people (one of whom admitted she had no idea what she was doing), until finally being told to print out a screenshot and take it to my local post office for a refund.
So I did that, only to be told that they can't give a refund for non-delivery until the item delivers. Chew on that for a second.
The next day, Thursday, Jan. 19, now 48 hours after I mailed the package, it arrived at the PO box in Phoenix. I went for my refund. This time I was told that the initial scan was on Jan. 18, so the package had indeed made it overnight.
I explained that I had dropped the letter off on Tuesday, so it was a day late, then I was asked for something with a postmark. Huh? Apparently, unless you go to the counter and get a receipt for your drop-off, they won't guarantee overnight delivery, although they're happy to collect the $18.
So, my question to the USPS is "Why do you encourage people to go online and then place drop-off boxes if you really don't want people doing that?"
Anyway, I got screwed out of $18. Fast forward to the actual package itself. It was a check — a very large one — that I needed deposited into my checking account. I use Charles Schwab Bank, which has only one branch in Nevada. For all intents and purposes, it's an online bank with some awesome features. Normally I could just take a photo (seriously) of the check for a deposit, but over a certain amount, they need the physical check. So I overnighted it to them.
Unfortunately, they couldn't find it, so Friday morning, the deposit still wasn't there. I made a call the Schwab, and a banker answered on the second ring. An actual human. Who listened to me and understood the situation. He promised to contact the appropriate people to find the check and deposit it... in fact, he would waive the normal hold on large checks and deposit the entire thing for immediate withdrawal. I didn't ask for that, but it was an example of great customer service that goes above and beyond.
It was an incredibly stark contrast to the Postal Service. One might try to make some sort of "government agency" joke, but this is really just human errors compounded by laziness. They didn't try to make it right; they didn't care. Schwab on the other hand, didn't really do anything wrong, but still went out of their way to make me feel that they valued me as a customer.
And for that, I'd like to talk to Chuck. And thank him. And remind him to never, ever use the post office again.
P.S. This same afternoon, Continental Airlines called to thank ME for sending in a compliment about one of their flight attendants. An actual person called me to thank me for thanking them. Amazing! Such wonderful customer service. United — please don't kill that.
Who (over the age of 18) doesn't remember getting a long-awaited letter in the mail? Who hasn't smiled as a postcard from a far-away locale? Mail is part of our collective memories.
For me, it goes even further — I've known several people who work for USPS.
But after this week, I'm going to commit to using USPS as little as possible. I've got e-mail, a fax line and FedEx at my disposal. Don't mail me; I might not reply.
I needed to send a check overnight to my bank, which has a P.O. box., so I used the USPS's online "Click-N-Ship" online service to print a label. For $18, my postage printed, and all I had to do was drop it off.
I printed out the label on Monday, Jan. 16, a holiday. I swung by my local post office on Tuesday morning around 9 a.m. and dropped the Express Mail envelope in the clearly-marked Express Mail drop box outside. Cut-off time was 5 p.m.; I had made it with several hours.
So I was a little pissed when I looked the next morning to find that my package hadn't even been scanned yet. I was busy with work, so I checked later that day to find out that it was scanned around 1 p.m. that day — still here in Austin. more than 24 hours had gone by and the package hadn't moved!
I called the USPS toll-free number, which is akin to one of those hedge mazes, talked to four different people (one of whom admitted she had no idea what she was doing), until finally being told to print out a screenshot and take it to my local post office for a refund.
So I did that, only to be told that they can't give a refund for non-delivery until the item delivers. Chew on that for a second.
The next day, Thursday, Jan. 19, now 48 hours after I mailed the package, it arrived at the PO box in Phoenix. I went for my refund. This time I was told that the initial scan was on Jan. 18, so the package had indeed made it overnight.
I explained that I had dropped the letter off on Tuesday, so it was a day late, then I was asked for something with a postmark. Huh? Apparently, unless you go to the counter and get a receipt for your drop-off, they won't guarantee overnight delivery, although they're happy to collect the $18.
So, my question to the USPS is "Why do you encourage people to go online and then place drop-off boxes if you really don't want people doing that?"
Anyway, I got screwed out of $18. Fast forward to the actual package itself. It was a check — a very large one — that I needed deposited into my checking account. I use Charles Schwab Bank, which has only one branch in Nevada. For all intents and purposes, it's an online bank with some awesome features. Normally I could just take a photo (seriously) of the check for a deposit, but over a certain amount, they need the physical check. So I overnighted it to them.
Unfortunately, they couldn't find it, so Friday morning, the deposit still wasn't there. I made a call the Schwab, and a banker answered on the second ring. An actual human. Who listened to me and understood the situation. He promised to contact the appropriate people to find the check and deposit it... in fact, he would waive the normal hold on large checks and deposit the entire thing for immediate withdrawal. I didn't ask for that, but it was an example of great customer service that goes above and beyond.
It was an incredibly stark contrast to the Postal Service. One might try to make some sort of "government agency" joke, but this is really just human errors compounded by laziness. They didn't try to make it right; they didn't care. Schwab on the other hand, didn't really do anything wrong, but still went out of their way to make me feel that they valued me as a customer.
And for that, I'd like to talk to Chuck. And thank him. And remind him to never, ever use the post office again.
P.S. This same afternoon, Continental Airlines called to thank ME for sending in a compliment about one of their flight attendants. An actual person called me to thank me for thanking them. Amazing! Such wonderful customer service. United — please don't kill that.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
How cable news killed American journalism
I remember being a journalism student in high school and college, thinking I would be part of this great tradition of the Walter Cronkites of the world.
I would speak truth to power, I thought, and I would always strive to be accurate, probing and diligent.
Some 15 years later, I'm not working in the journalism field, and I'm disillusioned with the field. I still love it, but I'm watching it die at the hands of a million murderers — ruthless corporate ownership and social media at the forefront.
But I'm also watching American journalism commit a suicide on the institution. In the past 20 years I've watched the transition from Cronkite to Hannity, and it's weighing heavy mind.
Journalism is (or should be) in the business of delivering facts. If the governor's mansion burned down, that needs to be covered. If someone is leading in an election, that's news. When a figure is assassinated, that story should be tackled.
The business of delivering facts seems simple enough, right? However, in 2011, American journalism has veered from this in an effort to out-do the competition. American journalism is no longer about "just the facts, ma'am"; it's about the he-said/she-said battles.
I blame cable news for this. Somewhere along the way, cable news got in the business of "analysis," where people were paid to tell you what they thought (and, therefore, what you should think) about the facts. A plane crashes. Instead of just reporting what is known, cable news needed to fill airwaves, so talking heads came on to offer their own theories on why, what would happen, who it would affect, etc. Today on any given cable news network, virtually the entire prime-time lineup is filled with people who talk at you, telling you what they think about the world, and often bringing in other people to discuss the very same topics.
Newspaper reporters, God love 'em, who have grown up in this culture have adopted a similar mindset. There's no longer just a fact-based approach. In 2011, every story must have a he-said/she-said angle.
This really resonated with me this past month when I was watching a report on Gov. Rick Perry's presidential bid, and a statement he made about the Texas economy. He cited some figures that were provably false. Perry lied at the debate, something that anyone could prove with little difficulty.
The coverage that evening consisted mostly of people from the left and right battling it out over whether Perry was right, or if he was taken out of context, or if he was misstating, or if he was committing the ultimate gaffe.
Folks, if the sky is blue, I don't need a panel of pundits to tell me that it's red, no it's blue, no it might be green, no its blue, sky color is a Communist plot. I need the news industry to just tell me — get this radical idea — the news.
A fact is a fact is a fact. It's either true or it's not. It's not helpful in any form to have people debate if the fact is a good idea or a bad idea. It simply is. Those discussions may have a point in shaping the next round of facts, but news outlets shouldn't be in the news-shaping business. Just tell me what happened and carry on.
I'm all for the marketplace of ideas. Social media has only made that more feasible, with anyone with an Internet connection able to post their thoughts. And I love it — it's what the First Amendment is all about. (Although, I say that with a firm reminder that everyone may be entitled to their own opinions, but they are not entitled to their own facts.)
But I think it is incumbent on our media industry to get back to the gold standard of reporting — providing facts to the audience and letting the readers and viewers draw their own conclusions. Until then, it feels like a thousand paper cuts attacking the industry I love, and it hurts.
I would speak truth to power, I thought, and I would always strive to be accurate, probing and diligent.
Some 15 years later, I'm not working in the journalism field, and I'm disillusioned with the field. I still love it, but I'm watching it die at the hands of a million murderers — ruthless corporate ownership and social media at the forefront.
But I'm also watching American journalism commit a suicide on the institution. In the past 20 years I've watched the transition from Cronkite to Hannity, and it's weighing heavy mind.
Journalism is (or should be) in the business of delivering facts. If the governor's mansion burned down, that needs to be covered. If someone is leading in an election, that's news. When a figure is assassinated, that story should be tackled.
The business of delivering facts seems simple enough, right? However, in 2011, American journalism has veered from this in an effort to out-do the competition. American journalism is no longer about "just the facts, ma'am"; it's about the he-said/she-said battles.
I blame cable news for this. Somewhere along the way, cable news got in the business of "analysis," where people were paid to tell you what they thought (and, therefore, what you should think) about the facts. A plane crashes. Instead of just reporting what is known, cable news needed to fill airwaves, so talking heads came on to offer their own theories on why, what would happen, who it would affect, etc. Today on any given cable news network, virtually the entire prime-time lineup is filled with people who talk at you, telling you what they think about the world, and often bringing in other people to discuss the very same topics.
Newspaper reporters, God love 'em, who have grown up in this culture have adopted a similar mindset. There's no longer just a fact-based approach. In 2011, every story must have a he-said/she-said angle.
This really resonated with me this past month when I was watching a report on Gov. Rick Perry's presidential bid, and a statement he made about the Texas economy. He cited some figures that were provably false. Perry lied at the debate, something that anyone could prove with little difficulty.
The coverage that evening consisted mostly of people from the left and right battling it out over whether Perry was right, or if he was taken out of context, or if he was misstating, or if he was committing the ultimate gaffe.Folks, if the sky is blue, I don't need a panel of pundits to tell me that it's red, no it's blue, no it might be green, no its blue, sky color is a Communist plot. I need the news industry to just tell me — get this radical idea — the news.
A fact is a fact is a fact. It's either true or it's not. It's not helpful in any form to have people debate if the fact is a good idea or a bad idea. It simply is. Those discussions may have a point in shaping the next round of facts, but news outlets shouldn't be in the news-shaping business. Just tell me what happened and carry on.
I'm all for the marketplace of ideas. Social media has only made that more feasible, with anyone with an Internet connection able to post their thoughts. And I love it — it's what the First Amendment is all about. (Although, I say that with a firm reminder that everyone may be entitled to their own opinions, but they are not entitled to their own facts.)
But I think it is incumbent on our media industry to get back to the gold standard of reporting — providing facts to the audience and letting the readers and viewers draw their own conclusions. Until then, it feels like a thousand paper cuts attacking the industry I love, and it hurts.
Monday, December 05, 2011
Happy Holidays, dammit!
It's that time of year — when the right decides to gin up fake outrage at a fake "war on Christmas."
You'll hear it on Fox News or on random chain e-mails and the obligatory Facebook wall "Please share!" posts. People somehow are getting the idea that Christmas is being taken from them. And that truly mystifies me.
Is someone preventing YOU from having a merry Christmas? is there some sort of grinch who is stopping you from going to church or celebrating what you want, how you want? If so, let me know so I can expose them.
For some reason, "Happy Holidays" strikes a nerve — actually, it's not for "some reason." it's because people have been led to believe it's a evil plot. If you are anything like me, you have friends from all walks of life. From the people you work with, to the people you encounter on the street. And you know that not everyone spends their Christmas the exact same way you do; if you don't believe me, check out what they serve at their meals and see if it mirrors yours.
I know that there are people who celebrate Hanukah instead; I know others who are Muslim and celebrate neither. And I know others who celebrate Christmas in the most everyday way.
So when I tell people to "have a great holiday," it's just out of respect to everyone, not some sort of subversive attempt to kill Jesus (again) or whatever it is Fox says I'm supposedly doing.
And as for the part about being "oppressed," I have to agree with Jon Stewart on this one: I hope that Christians can overcome their oppression, which is clearly so evident. Maybe one of them will even get to be president someday — or maybe 44 times in a row.
Happy holidays,
B.
You'll hear it on Fox News or on random chain e-mails and the obligatory Facebook wall "Please share!" posts. People somehow are getting the idea that Christmas is being taken from them. And that truly mystifies me.
Is someone preventing YOU from having a merry Christmas? is there some sort of grinch who is stopping you from going to church or celebrating what you want, how you want? If so, let me know so I can expose them.
For some reason, "Happy Holidays" strikes a nerve — actually, it's not for "some reason." it's because people have been led to believe it's a evil plot. If you are anything like me, you have friends from all walks of life. From the people you work with, to the people you encounter on the street. And you know that not everyone spends their Christmas the exact same way you do; if you don't believe me, check out what they serve at their meals and see if it mirrors yours.I know that there are people who celebrate Hanukah instead; I know others who are Muslim and celebrate neither. And I know others who celebrate Christmas in the most everyday way.
So when I tell people to "have a great holiday," it's just out of respect to everyone, not some sort of subversive attempt to kill Jesus (again) or whatever it is Fox says I'm supposedly doing.
And as for the part about being "oppressed," I have to agree with Jon Stewart on this one: I hope that Christians can overcome their oppression, which is clearly so evident. Maybe one of them will even get to be president someday — or maybe 44 times in a row.
Happy holidays,
B.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Thanks, UC Davis
Congrats, UC Davis — You've managed to do what no one yet had been able to do.
Your police department has managed to take "abuse of force" and make it into a tangible, visible icon.
That photo of Lt. John Pike pepper-spraying non-violent, seated people on the ground — at point blank range — not only shocked the conscience; it was so blatant that people have begun using it as an example of its absurdity. The photos at right give you an idea of how bizarre this action was.
But I have to thank you for bringing it into the spotlight.
You see, in recent decades law enforcement everywhere has hailed "non-lethal weapons" as the Second Coming. The common wisdom is that they provide an alternative to things like bullets and death. The thinking is that these weapons are much better and prevent use of force.
The problem is, as we've seen, is that it doesn't replace the use of deadly force — it merely increases the likelihood of the use of force.
Are we to believe that this 84-year-old woman in Seattle who was pepper sprayed — are we to believe that without pepper spray, this woman would have been shot?
Are we to believe that without the pepper spray Lt. Pike would have shot the protesters?
The rubber bullets we saw flying around at non-violent protesters in New York — are we to believe that if rubber bullets didn't exist, NYPD would have used real ones instead?
New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg tried his best to do the unthinkable with his stormtrooper attacks on people exercising their First Amendment rights, but he failed. He failed in that America wasn't shocked by the images they saw.
You, UC Davis — you have succeeded where even New York failed. You were so blatant in your abuse of power that not only has it become an Internet meme, but people are beginning to question both authority and the rationale behind "non-lethal weapons."
And more importantly, you were so blatant that people who aren't part of the movement are waking up.
Look at Vietnam. It took massacres on TV before the nation had enough and demanded a chance. Kent State was an extremely visual wake-up call to the nation about what unchecked power can do. And now, forever written in the annals of American history, will be Lt. Pike and UC Davis.
Congratulations, and thanks for motivating thousands, if not millions of others, to join in their own versions of "occupations" nationwide.
Your police department has managed to take "abuse of force" and make it into a tangible, visible icon.
That photo of Lt. John Pike pepper-spraying non-violent, seated people on the ground — at point blank range — not only shocked the conscience; it was so blatant that people have begun using it as an example of its absurdity. The photos at right give you an idea of how bizarre this action was.But I have to thank you for bringing it into the spotlight.
You see, in recent decades law enforcement everywhere has hailed "non-lethal weapons" as the Second Coming. The common wisdom is that they provide an alternative to things like bullets and death. The thinking is that these weapons are much better and prevent use of force.
The problem is, as we've seen, is that it doesn't replace the use of deadly force — it merely increases the likelihood of the use of force.
Are we to believe that this 84-year-old woman in Seattle who was pepper sprayed — are we to believe that without pepper spray, this woman would have been shot?Are we to believe that without the pepper spray Lt. Pike would have shot the protesters?
The rubber bullets we saw flying around at non-violent protesters in New York — are we to believe that if rubber bullets didn't exist, NYPD would have used real ones instead?
New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg tried his best to do the unthinkable with his stormtrooper attacks on people exercising their First Amendment rights, but he failed. He failed in that America wasn't shocked by the images they saw.
You, UC Davis — you have succeeded where even New York failed. You were so blatant in your abuse of power that not only has it become an Internet meme, but people are beginning to question both authority and the rationale behind "non-lethal weapons."And more importantly, you were so blatant that people who aren't part of the movement are waking up.
Look at Vietnam. It took massacres on TV before the nation had enough and demanded a chance. Kent State was an extremely visual wake-up call to the nation about what unchecked power can do. And now, forever written in the annals of American history, will be Lt. Pike and UC Davis.
Congratulations, and thanks for motivating thousands, if not millions of others, to join in their own versions of "occupations" nationwide.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Doogie, you're making me panic
Sometimes I blog because I want to share something fun.
Other times, it's because I'm really passionate about the topic and I want to throw my two cents in. Today, though, I'm writing because I'm frustrated. Today is the latter.
I'm caught in between two doctors' offices and it's increasing my anxiety. (You'll see below why that's ironic.)
For years, I've had panic disorder. I was lucky enough to find an outstanding psychiatrist in the Houston area, where I lived, who has been treating it ever since. This doctor (we'll call him Dr. S.) has been nothing short of amazing; he is published and well-regarded in his profession. He has seen me every three months (at least) since 2001. And in that time, he has gotten to know me as a person. More importantly, he's been able to tailor my treatment to me, not just a random patient.
So I was more than a little disappointed when I learned this summer that he had hired a physician's assistant to basically take over his practice. Dr. S. had been asked to be the director of a mental health facility, which is a great thing for him, but not so good for me.
You see, in the intervening years, I left Houston and have been commuting every 90 days to his office in Houston just for a 15-minute visit with him to make sure my medications were on track. While the P.A. would continue writing the prescription, I missed the interaction and the specific knowledge Dr. S. has about me.
I returned to Austin after my last visit with a reluctant determination to find a new psychiatrist. My insurance carrier has about 20 psychiatrists listed, but most of them (16 or 17) are all in the same office. A search of reviews for an outstanding physician led to a short list of people who got glowing feedback but who didn't take insurance. So, in an act of bravery and desperation, I set an appointment at the mega-office that accepted my insurance.
I should have known I was going to have an interesting ride when I Googled the new doctor. Turns out he graduated medical school last year. Of course, everyone deserves a shot, but I really didn't savor the idea of going from a seasoned leader in his field, to Doogie who was still in residency.
When I got there, my worst fears were realized. Although Dr. S's office had sent over my diagnosis, medication list and medical history, the new doctor (we'll call him Doogie just for grins) insisted in doing everything by the book. My 15-minute appointment became a 90-minute interview where he asked about any and everything. He asked if I had ever heard my toaster or my TV talk to me; if I had ever been homicidal; if I had ever been in legal trouble. I understand the need for a work-up, but I really didn't need a complete re-diagnosis. That's why I had the existing paperwork sent over.
Doogie ended the interview by telling me that he wanted to change my medication.
You see, I have been on the same regimen, more or less, for 10 years. I take 10 mg of Lexapro a day, and 2 mg of clonazepam three times a day. (Note: This is a high dosage, but it's what Dr. S. and I carefully worked up to and decided would work best for me. Also, you should know that clonazepam is chemically related to Xanax, but is also used for treatment of seizures aside from panic disorder. Recommended max dosage for panic is 4 mg a day, and for seizures, 20 mg a day.)
I was pretty firm that I had found a combination of medication that suited me and treated me effectively. Doogie left the room and returned with more resolve. He told me — in a combination of resolve, tact and intensity — that my dosage of clonazepam was entirely too high. Clonazepam, he said, has a max dosage of 4 mg, so the level I am at is entirely unsafe, and that missing a dose could lead to seizures or death. His plan was to remove the clonazepam (over time) and double the Lexapro dosage.
After telling him that I was aware of any dangers associated with clonazepam and had accepted them after 10 years, he still kept on and wrote a prescription for 20 mg of Lexapro and a "temporary" 30-day supply of 2 mg. clonazepam pills.
I had barely hit the outside of the building before I was on the phone setting an appointment with Dr. S's P.A. back in Houston.
I respect physicians (even new ones), and I know that psychiatric treatment can be subjective. I also know that Doogie was just practicing what he had learned in class and from the book; I know because I have the same Merck manual.
Where I feel disappointed and frustrated is that he didn't even take my specific, individual case into account. He simply was doing what the book told him to, and quite frankly, a computer could have done that.
Now I am forced to make the trip to another city to see a P.A. because a new provider won't listen to me.
At some point, I'll try another local physician, but now I'm scared that I'll end up dealing with the same situation. And that will make me panic.
Other times, it's because I'm really passionate about the topic and I want to throw my two cents in. Today, though, I'm writing because I'm frustrated. Today is the latter.
I'm caught in between two doctors' offices and it's increasing my anxiety. (You'll see below why that's ironic.)
For years, I've had panic disorder. I was lucky enough to find an outstanding psychiatrist in the Houston area, where I lived, who has been treating it ever since. This doctor (we'll call him Dr. S.) has been nothing short of amazing; he is published and well-regarded in his profession. He has seen me every three months (at least) since 2001. And in that time, he has gotten to know me as a person. More importantly, he's been able to tailor my treatment to me, not just a random patient.
So I was more than a little disappointed when I learned this summer that he had hired a physician's assistant to basically take over his practice. Dr. S. had been asked to be the director of a mental health facility, which is a great thing for him, but not so good for me.
You see, in the intervening years, I left Houston and have been commuting every 90 days to his office in Houston just for a 15-minute visit with him to make sure my medications were on track. While the P.A. would continue writing the prescription, I missed the interaction and the specific knowledge Dr. S. has about me.
I returned to Austin after my last visit with a reluctant determination to find a new psychiatrist. My insurance carrier has about 20 psychiatrists listed, but most of them (16 or 17) are all in the same office. A search of reviews for an outstanding physician led to a short list of people who got glowing feedback but who didn't take insurance. So, in an act of bravery and desperation, I set an appointment at the mega-office that accepted my insurance.
I should have known I was going to have an interesting ride when I Googled the new doctor. Turns out he graduated medical school last year. Of course, everyone deserves a shot, but I really didn't savor the idea of going from a seasoned leader in his field, to Doogie who was still in residency.
When I got there, my worst fears were realized. Although Dr. S's office had sent over my diagnosis, medication list and medical history, the new doctor (we'll call him Doogie just for grins) insisted in doing everything by the book. My 15-minute appointment became a 90-minute interview where he asked about any and everything. He asked if I had ever heard my toaster or my TV talk to me; if I had ever been homicidal; if I had ever been in legal trouble. I understand the need for a work-up, but I really didn't need a complete re-diagnosis. That's why I had the existing paperwork sent over.
Doogie ended the interview by telling me that he wanted to change my medication.
You see, I have been on the same regimen, more or less, for 10 years. I take 10 mg of Lexapro a day, and 2 mg of clonazepam three times a day. (Note: This is a high dosage, but it's what Dr. S. and I carefully worked up to and decided would work best for me. Also, you should know that clonazepam is chemically related to Xanax, but is also used for treatment of seizures aside from panic disorder. Recommended max dosage for panic is 4 mg a day, and for seizures, 20 mg a day.)
I was pretty firm that I had found a combination of medication that suited me and treated me effectively. Doogie left the room and returned with more resolve. He told me — in a combination of resolve, tact and intensity — that my dosage of clonazepam was entirely too high. Clonazepam, he said, has a max dosage of 4 mg, so the level I am at is entirely unsafe, and that missing a dose could lead to seizures or death. His plan was to remove the clonazepam (over time) and double the Lexapro dosage.
After telling him that I was aware of any dangers associated with clonazepam and had accepted them after 10 years, he still kept on and wrote a prescription for 20 mg of Lexapro and a "temporary" 30-day supply of 2 mg. clonazepam pills.
I had barely hit the outside of the building before I was on the phone setting an appointment with Dr. S's P.A. back in Houston.
I respect physicians (even new ones), and I know that psychiatric treatment can be subjective. I also know that Doogie was just practicing what he had learned in class and from the book; I know because I have the same Merck manual.
Where I feel disappointed and frustrated is that he didn't even take my specific, individual case into account. He simply was doing what the book told him to, and quite frankly, a computer could have done that.
Now I am forced to make the trip to another city to see a P.A. because a new provider won't listen to me.
At some point, I'll try another local physician, but now I'm scared that I'll end up dealing with the same situation. And that will make me panic.
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