Under the Influence

I just received an invitation on my Facebook page to something called Klout. It is an "app," which is short for application, because after all, few of us in today's busy world have the time to sound out the entire word. Supposedly, Klout "measures our influence on the social web" by assigning us a Klout Score on a scale of 1 to 100. I was informed that two of my friends and 1.7 million people already use it.

The funny thing is, the invitation came from a Facebook "friend" who has never before contacted me in any way, ever--no comments or "Likes" or phone calls or texts or notes or anything-- yet here is this "invitation" from him. (I guess he's trying to improve his own Klout score.) Here's what I think: I can barely influence myself, forget other people. I can't lose weight or stick with an exercise regime or get myself into my art studio every day. There are oily paint brushes soaking in turpentine in the garage that I do nothing about, and a bag full of clothes in the front hall I've been meaning to take to the thrift shop for like three weeks. Some days I don't floss. Is there an app for that?

Except when we're deciding where to go for dinner, influencing others has never been my thing. I used to try with my son when he was little, but I was supposed to, being his mother. That worked to a degree during his teen years, and I credit myself with his lack of tattoos and piercings today. Other than that, don't ask me what to do or think or wear or eat or read--what the heck do I know? As for who influences me, the list is short and includes mostly dead people, so I'm not getting much that's new. I am open to influencers, believe me, but I doubt they will come my way via Facebook. Or Klout.

Whipped Into a Frenzy

Today my husband had a colonoscopy and boy was it annoying for me. The worst thing is that when I have my own colonoscopy, which I have to do every four years, it is also annoying for me. Yesterday was the prep day, more commonly known as the Night of Horrors, so I ran out in the morning to get the ice pops and the Gatorade and the Dulcolax and the Miralax and the Jello and the apple juice and the bouillon. Last night seemed less horrible than usual because the Democratic National Convention was on TV, with Joe Biden and the rest of the bunch offering substantial amounts of hysteria to drown out Mitch's groans. This morning I drove the cranky patient to his procedure and opted to wait there, since I was told it would take about an hour.

Suddenly there I was in the dreaded Waiting Room. Magazines were arrayed on a low coffee table, but none of them were to my liking. I finally caved in and opted for WebMD to see if there were any diseases I might have that I don't know about. Then I perused TIME and read about how the Orthodox Jews and the plain Jews hate one another and are warring over control of an Israeli suburb. Then there were only a few minutes left, or so I thought until a nurse came to tell me that they were "running late" and actually were just starting, and it would be an hour from right then, in case I wanted to go run an errand or something. Another hour? Why didn't anyone tell me? Anyway, it was now just an hour and not enough time to do anything so again I waited, and then after an hour I went to the desk and asked if Mitch were finished yet and they said, no it would be another 45 minutes, and then it was really much more than that because we had to wait for the doctor to talk to us and he was busy with another procedure that was also--big surprise-- running late.

Although I am not the type to buy a gun or hold a gun or even look at a gun--in fact, if I were in the same room with a gun, which has never happened, I would leave immediately--I am definitely the type to get royally pissed off in certain situations. I might even become "disgruntled" enough to go on one of those rampages that are so popular lately, and I might start at the Portland Gastroenterology Center. Only instead of a gun I would go over there with some of those cans of string from ToysRUs, or, even better, a case of Reddi-Wip canisters, and spray them all until I felt better. Is that wrong?

Osama Bin Laden is Dead!

Let us never forget that Obama single-handedly killed Osama!

Joe Biden's speech: "My wife is the love of my life and the life of my love." Barf. Anyway, according to Joe, we Americans have grit and determination. He and Barack plan to "move this nation forward to promise and prosperity." And make no mistake about it: this is one mission they will complete--so shut up about all the others they have not completed over the last four years. (I'm paraphrasing.)

Uh-oh, look out--now he's going to tell us about "his" Barack.  He says he knows him. He says he is "a leader who has what it takes to lead us over the next four years." Well, I for one definitely want a leader who can lead. After all, if you have a leader who can't lead then you might just as well not have a leader at all, wouldn't you agree? But I digress.

One question: Does Joe Biden think that if he YELLS REALLY LOUD, we will believe him more? And does he himself really believe the hollow praise he is heaping on Obama? "But most of all, I got to see first-hand what drove this man: his profound........blah, blah...families all over America sitting at their kitchen tables----blah, blah-- Barack and I have been through a lot....I have seen the enormity of his heart...and he learned the depths of my loyalty. (A little too close?) Bound us together these past four years. That Barack, He never wavers! That's what makes him tick! That's who He is! America has turned the corner!!!!!!!!!!! Conviction! Resolve! Barack Obama saved the automobile industry!" (Who knew?)

Having drunk the Kool-Aid being served throughout the hall, the crowd roars. This is now embarrassing. (Not Joe-- the loony crowd roaring.) "The finest warriors in the history of the world," says Joe about our military. "Admiral McCraven looked him in the eye. I knew at that moment he had made a decision to do it. Obama made the call, and justice was done!" Much roaring. Oy vay. Who are these people?

Uh-oh, he's yelling again, I gotta go....

Tell Me No Lies

If you're anything like me, tonight is one night when you definitely want to have plans. You do not want to be sitting around with nothing to do when the Liar in Chief gets on TV and starts spinning yarns about how his second term will be so much better because he had to spend the first one undoing all the damage left by his terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad predecessor. And then out will stroll a waving Michelle Obama, playing the Miss America song in her head, wearing one of those $900-but-still-somewhow-trampy dresses and a toothy grin, and Gramps Biden and his wife the Doctor, all of them millionaires but yet "they feel for you," each spewing the convoluted half-truths concocted by consultants, strategists and speechwriters, hitting all the high notes except for the highest one about how he's already the president and guess what? It's not good...

This morning I went for a haircut and asked my Latvian stylist if she has been watching the political conventions. (She came here from Russia about ten years ago, is an American citizen and plans to vote in our upcoming election.) She shook her head adamantly and said, "No, I don't watch any of that. They all lie."

My Fellow Americans! (Bill Clinton Speaks)

Bill Clinton demonstrates just how much bigger Obama is than Romney.

Bill Clinton is definitely the head cheerleader. He is speaking right now on TV, in the other room. The loony crowd went wild when he came out, with Fleetwood Mac beseeching everyone in the hall to not stop thinking about tomorrow. Besides being as inspirational as Reverend Wright, he sure can twist the facts around. And despite his well-known disdain for President Obama, he is praising him to the skies. The American Dream! Leadership! Highly competitive world! You have to vote for Barack Obama! I love our country! We're coming back! But Obama has been the president for the last four years, so one wonders just what we are "coming back" from?

Hey guess what-- if you vote for Obama, the future debts of college students will not even have to be paid back in full! The taxpayers will pay it! (That's you and me.) So now everyone can go to college and not worry about paying for it---ever! Yaaaaaaaaaaay! Is this a great country or what? And then there's health care! The Democrats are the best! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Millions of seniors are receiving preventive care! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!! For the last two years, health care costs have gone down for the first time in 50 years!!!!!! Are we better off? You betcha!

In case you don't already know, Romney and Ryan suck. They lied in Tampa last week. A lot of people believe this stuff! BOOOOOOOOOOO! It is so clear cut. Romney wants to make Medicare go broke! Folks, this is serious and it gets worse, and you won't be laughing when I tell you this....they want to end Medicaid....that's gonna hurt a lot of little kids. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!  I mean BOOOOOOOOO! They want to hurt people with disabilities! Down's Syndrome! Autism! What are those families going to do? We can't let it happen! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Think about it! Obama brightens our future! My fellow Americans....if you want to live your own life, vote for Romney. But if you want the government to take care of you, vote for Obama!

(I am not sure why they are even holding the election, they should just anoint Obama right now.)

Time Off for Bad Behavior

Growing up in New York, people like me were a dime a dozen. They still are. Funny, irreverent, sophisticated, sarcastic and skeptical are common words used to define New Yorkers. I embody those traits and exhibit them proudly and would not want to be otherwise.  However, my edgy personality does not play well in Maine, and thus my employment record since moving here is anything but stellar. I could not get hired to sell duck boots to tourists at L. L. Bean, could not snag a volunteer position teaching amateurs how to hold a paint brush at the Y and could not even land a freelance writing gig from Portland Magazine, which is admittedly a piece of trash but the only piece of trash around. My art gallery was a flop and while my consignment shop was not, who wants to spend their time selling used furniture to old ladies? (Not me.)

This might be a good time to read "War and Peace."

Battle of the Wives

Well, Michelle Obama does indeed have very toned arms--I guess she spends a lot of time working out. And her hair, straightened and pulled and styled to within an inch of her life, looked quite perky and bouncy last night at the Democratic Convention, although that wave on the one side was a tad distracting if you ask me. But that dress! Oy, was she going to an after-Oscars party later on? Did any of her handlers see it before she walked on stage looking like a combination call girl/wedding-cake-topper? Ann Romney at least had the decency to dress for the occasion in a patriotic color. Besides, she has MS and had breast cancer, and as far as I know Michelle has no terrible disease, so what the heck does she know about suffering? And Romney's wife is much better-looking anyway--Michelle has that overbite thing going on-- so I guess I'll vote for him.

Skeptics Anonymous

Santa taking his traditional "beach walk" before delivering all those toys...

You've got to pay attention if you want to know what's what. There's a lot of misinformation out there passing itself off as the real deal, and not just from the mouths of Democrats. In the 2013 Harris' Farmer's Almanac, which proudly states on the cover that it is "Published in the tradition of the respected almanac of the same name first published in 1692," and purports to "count an issue a success if it contains practical information to make everyday life easier," we learn the following on page 21 as it relates to the busy nature of the upcoming December 2012 holidays: "And then there is the Christmas tree to fetch and decorate or the Seder meal to prepare."

Huh? What's that? I know we Jews are confusing to some, what with our horns and circumcisions and such, but I am certain-- and you can quote me on this--that the Seder meal should never be prepared in December, lest it be cold by the time you serve it in April. I am now left wondering what other misinformation is contained in that esteemed Almanac. Should I really cover my blueberries with netting and stake my tomatoes next July, or is that totally the wrong time to do so? It's so hard to know who to believe these days.

Take Me Out to (Eat At) the Ball Game

This afternoon, to celebrate Labor Day, my husband and I went to a Sea Dogs baseball game in Portland. Somebody gave him tickets. It was perfect baseball weather, and the seats were great, right behind home plate.  Several things distracted me from the game that was being played on the field, but since it was just the Minor Leagues, hardly anyone was hitting anything so it didn't matter much. Here's what did:

     1. There are some very fat people here in the state of Maine, and apparently more than a few of them are partial to baseball. What was interesting was to see what they were eating. The true fatties were into French fries--big, overflowing buckets of them. The next popular choice seemed to be elaborate ice cream sundaes with chocolate sauce and sprinkles, served in upside-down-baseball-cap-shaped red plastic dishes. (Seemed like a distracting choice to make on a hot, sunny day when you're sitting in the bleachers supposedly watching a ball game, but that's just me.) Also available were hot dogs, beer, pizza, sodas and popcorn. The less fat but still fat folks seemed to opt for pizza, while the thin people ate--big surprise--nothing.
      2. There were actual TV commercials during the game! These appeared on a large screen whenever the teams changed who was up at bat, and of course again between innings.
      3. Each new inning was "brought to you" by a different local advertiser.
     4. A giant L. L. Bean Boot atop one wall reminded us of just where we were.
     5. The Sea Dogs lost, proving the second half of their name to be quite accurate.

It was certainly no Orioles at Camden Yards, but at least I wasn't worried the whole time that our car was being vandalized in the parking lot.

Men Are Such Boys

This morning I went into the bathroom and there was clear evidence that my husband had preceded me, and I don't mean just because the toilet seat was up. I called out to him, "Honey, do you know what that brush right next to the toilet is for?" He answered immediately, "What brush?"
     "The big, white one....."

Although many men can operate a garlic press, few--if any--can clean one. After 25 years of marriage, it is clear to me that this procedure is simply too much for Mitch, who is quite the chef and uses the garlic press daily, maybe even twice in one day if he makes himself a big breakfast and helps with dinner that night. But always the garlic press remains in the sink, full of smashed garlic drying up in all the little holes. If you do the math, with time off for vacations, that's more than 10,000 garlic-press-cleaning opportunities he passed up.

There are other things, too numerous to list here. The fact is, there really aren't any men, there are just older boys. And while many of them are indeed handsome, sexy, funny and charming, they all lack the basics of common sense. If you don't believe me, just give one of them a shopping list and send him off to the market and see what he comes home with. In most cases the list will remain on the kitchen counter, so you can sort of see why, but even armed with a list, the results can be stunning. None of this matters at all unless you consider that the race for President is always between men, and the winner is always male. That can't be good.

The bottom line: Except for the sex, most women would be gay.

About That New Yorker Cover....

Imagine if this cartoon had appeared on FOX News!

So I guess now everyone who ever liked Clint Eastwood in the past hates him because he lent his star power to the Republicans. Funny how that works. The man has brought countless hours of relaxation and entertainment to countless people the world over for countless years--okay, I could count them but I'm not gonna--with the movies in which he has starred and the movies he created as a director, producer and writer, not to mention all the fantasies he fueled back in his younger, heartthrob days. But all that is washed away because he prefers Mitt Romney to Barack Obama! It is sickening, plain and simple, how many clueless-on-the-issues voters cling to that wrecked lifeboat called the Democratic Party simply because the man at the helm is half African-American.

Loving Obama allows people to feel good about themselves--hey, I'm not a racist, I voted for Obama! It reminds me of something that happened almost 20 years ago in the small Maryland suburb where I lived, just a few miles from the shameful slums of inner-city Washington. My son had started kindergarten, along with his best friend, Richie. The two of them had been inseparable for three years, just about half their lives at that point. One day when I happened to be there helping out, the children lined up to go outside for recess. Richie caused a scene when he stubbornly refused to stand next to "that brown boy," claiming he "smelled funny." The teacher, a black woman, was about to go ballistic on him when I intervened, explaining that his mother was a close friend and I would alert her to the situation immediately. Surely they would fix the problem at home.

Later that day, Richie's mom almost fainted when I recounted the story. She was mortified, outraged, depressed and mystified that her little boy could have said something so clearly racist. "But we are so liberal," she wailed, signalling her despair with one of the most unforgettable lines I have ever heard: "This must be how Ted Bundy's mother felt." The two of us discussed the matter further and it came to light that little Richie had never actually been near a black person before, in fact the family had never invited a black person to their home, despite the fact that our friendly, small town was quite diverse and fully integrated. (Huh---imagine that.)

Now all the people who have never had a black person into their home can feel like they do it all the time whenever Obama comes on TV. "Hey, I'm no racist, I voted for Obama! And I love Michelle!" And of course, the opposite is implicit in a vote against Obama--after all, a vote for the white guy is a vote against the black guy. And now, even liking Clint Eastwood makes you a little bit racist. Funny, isn't it? Almost as funny as that New Yorker cover, which everyone accepted at the time as satire since it appeared in such a left-wing rag. Somehow when liberals say or do something blatantly racist, it's just fine.