Restoration of... What Again?

My friend Ben recently suggested I watch a new program on Netflix called "Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt" in which the great Ellie Kemper plays a member of a kooky, religious, doomsday cult that had been living in an underground bunker, where they were taught that the Earth had been destroyed and they were the last living people on the planet.  After fifteen years, law enforcement breaks in and frees the members, many of whom had been forcibly inducted into the cult as children.  After being featured in national news programs and seeing that the world is still very much in existence, Kimmy decides to stay in New York City and try to make sense of the last decade and a half that she missed.

I have to be honest.  I've only watched one episode.  I do plan on finishing the series.  It's terribly funny, well acted, and well written (the show was co-created by Tina Fey, on whom I've had a serious crush since Kimmy Schmidt went underground), and frankly, I'll watch just about anything with Carol Kane in it.  My only initial complaint of the show is that the cult in question was based in Indiana and those who were rescued were referred to in the press as the "Indiana Mole People."  As a proud Hoosier, I get the impression that the rest of the country regards us as a bunch of backwoods rubes, which frankly agitates the shit out of me.  And then along comes Kimmy Schmidt to reinforce that negative stereotype.  However, in the last few days, I've come to the grievous and lamentable conclusion that the rest of the country may be right about us. 

This week Indiana passed the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, or SB101.  In spite of what the bill's sponsors (including Governor Mike Pence) claim, the bill essentially allows for business owners to refuse service to certain customers on the basis that doing so violates their religious principles.  This is a broad overview with potentially broad results and repercussions, but let's just say what it really does.  It allows business owners to discriminate against and refuse service to same-sex couples because they find homosexuality an abomination.  I know, I know... it's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.  In moments like these, I really wish Eve's name had actually been Katherine... or, better yet, Kelly.

Needless to say there has been an immediate backlash not just from forward-thinking Hoosiers, but from the rest of the country.  Indiana has become a pariah to out of state companies who at one time considered investing in this state.  GenCon, the largest gaming convention in the country, has threatened to leave Indianapolis.  Marc Benioff, the CEO of the San Francisco based cloud computing company Salesforce--which, last year, purchased the Indy-based email marketing firm ExactTarget--wrote on his personal Twitter account, "Today we are canceling all programs that require our customers/employees to travel to Indiana to face discrimination," adding that he would "dramatically reduce" how much his company would invest in the state of Indiana.

Even the media was offended.  During Friday's broadcast of the CBS Evening News, the person reporting about the passage of the bill was reporting from Chicago.  That's right--CBS News was so offended by the passage of a bill in Indiana that they reported it from Illinois!

Personally, I've been having problems because I've been confusing SB101 with SB150, which is the celebration of South Bend's sesquicentennial.  I also don't like the name "Religious Freedom Restoration Act," just because I don't believe anyone's religious freedom was ever in jeopardy.  So I don't know what else to call it other than "This Fucking Bill."  There are some other even more politically incorrect terms I can use, but they're probably even more offensive than this fucking bill.

Like a lot of people, I'm appalled by this travesty of legislation (hey, there's another good term).  I realize that you have the right in this country to believe whatever you want to believe.  And I'm fine with that.  I'm even willing to engage in a discussion about your beliefs and I will even go so far as to respect them and you and agree to disagree, and all that.  But I draw the line when you publicly discriminate against people and treat them as second class citizens.  This is the twenty-first century, for Christ's sake!  When are we going to realize that just because a person is "different" (and damn I do hate that word), that doesn't mean that they are bad, evil, or unrighteous... or whatever.  People are people and they should be treated as such.  And for those who like to quote scripture and, consequently Fox News (or "Faux News" as I've suddenly found myself calling it--thanks for that, Jake), let me just take this moment to quote some myself: 

"Do not judge lest you be judged.
"For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you."(Matthew 7:1-2, NAS)

So by that logic, I found the bright side of this whole farkakte thing (that's right--I said "farkakte").  There is a very simple solution to this.  Any business owner who opposes SB101 (and I'm sure there are many) can now legally deny service to any state legislator who had anything to do with enacting this law, including Governor Pence, on the grounds that serving them violates their religious beliefs regarding bigotry and intolerance. I realize this sounds somewhat hypocritical, but so does using the names of God and Jesus to justify any type of discrimination. I challenge all Indiana business owners opposed to this bill to deny service based on religous beliefs to those who supported it for the same reasons. Let's see how they like it. If we can all do this, I have a feeling the law will be overturned sooner rather than later.

A Poem by William Allen

Reflections in a Blank Piece of Paper

 

--William Allen, 13 February, 1992

Repeal Daylight Saving Time!

Do you realize that at this time yesterday it was an hour earlier than it is right now?  Does that make any sense to anyone else?  Honestly, that phrase should be nominated for a Hugo Award.  It sounds like something Christopher Nolan would turn into a seriously confusing film.

Last night, before going to bed, I set my clocks ahead one hour like I was supposed to do for Daylight Saving Time, set my alarms properly, and I still woke up twenty minutes late.  And do you know why?  BECAUSE TIME TRAVELING ONE HOUR INTO THE FUTURE IS NOT FRIGGIN' NATURAL!!!!!!!!  If I'm going to travel into the future, I want to travel far enough ahead to see real social and technological advancements.  I want to see a cure for cancer and AIDS, I want to see a universal acceptance of gay rights, and I want to see flying cars.  None of those things are going to develop in one piddly little hour--what's the point?!?  To paraphrase Jimmy Buffett, damn, I do detest losing an hour for no good reason at all.

Growing up in Indiana, we never had Daylight Saving Time until we finally gave in to what I can only assume was peer pressure in 2007.  Frankly, I never understood the point.  There are many arguments for using this absurd concept, most of which appear to be strictly psychological to me.  For example, as a small child, my bedtime was 8pm.  During the summer, I didn't understand why I had to go to bed when the sun was still out.  The solution?  Let me stay up until 9 during the summer.  See?  Simple.  Easy.  We didn't have to change our clocks or anything.

One of my issues with this is the name--"Daylight Saving Time."  This implies that we're saving daylight, which we aren't.  Whoever named this absurd concept (I'm sorry, I know I used that phrase before, but I honestly can't think of anything better to call it) clearly had no knowledge of astronomy or physics--we get just as much daylight as we always have for this particular time of year on this particular part of the planet.  That never changes.

Furthermore, when we're not on Daylight Saving Time, we're on what's called Standard Time.  For it to be standard, shouldn't it have a bigger slice of the pie than anything else?  Has anyone else noticed that we spend less time during the year on Standard Time than we do on Daylight Saving?  That time has gotten even less since President Bush made us start Daylight Saving three weeks earlier during his administration.

I understand that in the fall, I'll get that hour back, but, like most Americans, I'll probably spend it sleeping in.  Of course, the time is supposed to change at 2am.  Sadly, in another hour, it'll be 2am again and you'll just have to set your clock back another hour.  I think Dennis Miller told that joke originally, but I've always liked it.

In the end, all Daylight Saving Time does is screw with our biological clocks.  That alone can't be healthy.  I know I'm not the only person who feels this way.  The only reason we haven't repealed this outdated and bizarre way of thinking is because people fear change.  We need to get past this irrational fear, pick a time, and stop adjusting it.  Spring forward if you must but stay there and don't ever go back.  Or fall back to where we were yesterday, but again, stay there.  I don't care, just pick one!  Either way, let's repeal Daylight Saving Time!

For more on this (presented much more eloquently than I could ever present it), please go to http://www.theatlantic.com/national/archive/2013/11/daylight-saving-time-americas-greatest-shame/354753/ .

Manual vs. Automatic Transmissions

A few years ago, I was looking up information about hybrid cars on the internet. Not that I could afford to buy a new car (then or now), I was just kind of curious. I checked out the Toyota website (which is what everyone in my immediate family drives). I was looking at the Prius. I was horrified, appalled and any other word that has a similar meaning to discover that you could not get a hybrid car with a manual transmission (at least not from Toyota). I realize that I'm not going to win any elections by saying this and I actually hate to do so, but if that's the case, screw the environment!

My first instinct was to come to the conclusion that there are two kinds of people in this world:  Those who can drive a stick shift and those who don't really know how to drive a car (not to impugn anyone's skill behind the wheel of a moving vehicle).  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there are two types of drivers: those who drive to get from Point A to Point B and those who actually relish the journey (and might even be trying to get to another point entirely). And most of us who love to just get out on the open road prefer a stick shift to an automatic.

It was a few years prior to that I discovered that I fall into the category of people who really truly love to drive. One weekend, I just needed to get my bearings and get away from anything and anyone familiar. I rented a vehicle and disappeared from sight for a weekend.

As I was driving home two days later, I put a recently purchased Bruce Springsteen CD in the car's stereo system. As I was driving south along US 31, which is essentially miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles, I really started to get into the music. I was starting to jam and discovered just how great Bruce Springsteen is to drive to. But as I was grooving hard to such tunes as “Two Hearts” and “Prove It All Night,” I realized that something was missing. I tried pounding the steering wheel in time to the music, my left leg was bobbing up and down on the floorboards, I even punched the air around the empty passenger seat, but no matter what I did that void was still there. I realized the problem was that I couldn't shift gears.

A few weeks later, my father let me test my theory in his manual pickup truck. As I drove down the open highway and finally got to experience the visceral pleasure of shifting into the upper gears while rocking out to “Badlands” and “Adam Raised a Cain,” I found my theory to be true. Bruce Springsteen, particularly with the E Street Band, sounds better in a stick shift! I should point out as well that this was an incredibly generous thing for my father to let me do (especially with him in the passenger seat) since the first time he heard me listening to Bruce Springsteen he said, "I thought I raised you better than that."

As time progressed, I discovered that any music that I would classify as "driving music"--Meat Loaf, the Stones, AC/DC, whatever--sounds better in a stick shift. With this, I began to savour the drive. It became a very tactile experience for me. I like putting in the clutch and shifting gears. I like just putting my hand on the gear lever and resting it there while I drive. It's all part of the experience.

When I get behind the wheel and get into about fourth gear on the open highway with the right song coming out of the speakers I get this maniacal grin on my face and sometimes let out a demented laugh as if I'm James Bond and have just escaped from enemy forces. Once or twice, I've even let out a howl not too dissimilar to that of D-Day at the end of Animal House. In moments like that, there is no place I would rather be than behind the wheel.

I actually pity those who never learned to drive anything but an automatic. It's because of them that I can't rent a car with a manual transmission. It's because of them that hybrid cars are only available in automatics.

I contend that there's no artistic value in driving an automatic, I don't care how much better it is for the environment. That's right, I said it. There's an art to driving stick. With an automatic it's just "point 'n' shoot"--and if you've got cruise control, all you have to do is point. With a stick, you have to know what gear you're in and what gear you need to be in or should be in for that curve in the road up ahead. You need to be able to know when to be in those respective gears and how to get to those gears. As I said, it's a tactile experience. You don't get that in an automatic.

I still argue that there are too many of us out there who prefer stick shifts that engineers will have to develop some way of incorporating it into an electric motor or whatever we're using in the future. It can't be impossible. After all, we have two benchmarks in science and technology and we achieved both of them before I was ever born. There's a general attitude that since we've put a man on the moon, there's nothing we can't accomplish. And why not? Seriously, if we can put a man on the moon there's no reason I can't drive a hydrogen powered car with a manual transmission. Frankly, I think that would be the greatest thing since sliced bread, which, apparently is the second greatest scientific and technological benchmark in our history.

Please, for the love of all that is sacred and holy, leave me my manual transmission.

A Letter to "Entertainment Weekly" from an Academy Award

Dear Entertainment Weekly:

As an Oscar, I am deeply offended by seeing Neil Patrick Harris, an actor whom I admire, on your cover in gold-face.  It is an insult and a slap in the face to my people and my heritage.

I realize that you probably look at us as nothing more than trophies.  But in the film world, we are the trophies.  We are awarded to the best of what cinema gave to all of you during the previous year.  Since 1929 we have been coveted by actors, directors, screenwriters, and cinematographers.  Since 1958, once a year, an entire evening of network television is devoted to us.  To have our legacy reduced to a racist stereotype on your cover is an absolute indignation.

I realize that neither you nor Mr. Harris were trying to offend.  I am sure that it was all done in good fun.  My cousin (who was awarded to Isaac Hayes for writing "Theme From Shaft") even theorized that the whole thing was photoshopped.  But we trophies have feelings too.  Unless there was a satirical context to the photo, which I failed to detect, it came across as nothing more than politically incorrect cultural insensitivity.

We are not looking to generate any controversy,  We simply ask that in the future you think of us as more than just a knick-knack that sits on an incredibly talented person's shelf.  We are important pieces of film history with a long and distinguished tradition.  Please remember that before once again publishing something so degrading.

Sincerely,

The Academy Award
(specifically the one that was awarded to Edmund Gwenn for his work in Miracle on 34th Street)

What the Hell am I Doing?

People have been suggesting for years that I write a blog.  I don't know why I resisted exactly.  Maybe I just thought that nobody would be interested in reading what I had to say.  But a dear, dear friend of mine basically gave me a deadline to start this.  Since I value this friend's advice, I thought... why the hell not?

I write.  It's how I express myself.  I truly believe that anyone who does anything creative does so primarily for their own amusement.  Sharing it with other people in the hopes that our creations find and/or develop an audience requires a certain amount of courage.  But it also takes a certain amount of arrogance to think that what we create might, or even does, matter to others.  I'll try my best to keep that part of my personality to a minimum--unless I'm watching "Jeopardy!", in which case, all bets are off.

I've been assembling essays, poems, random thoughts, etc., over many years in the hopes of putting together a book.  I assume that I'll be putting many of them in this blog just to get them out there.  In the meantime, I'll just give you a few facts about me, some of which may seem random, but, hey, that's just how I roll.

In addition to writing, I like to announce and do voice-over work.  I haven't done much professionally at this point, but hope springs eternal.  I am the announcer for the South Bend Roller Girls, the local women's roller derby team(s).  I keep hoping that sometime someone in attendance who works for a radio station or something likes what they hear and decides to hire me for more money than I currently make and gives me the chance to do it for a living.

I'm a popular culture junkie.  I devour music, film, television, and literature... which is probably what sparked my interest in writing in the first place.

I prefer Coke to Pepsi, the Stones to the Beatles, and stick shifts to automatic transmissions.  My favourite cereal is Grape-Nuts, my favourite colour is blue, my favourite ice cream is butter pecan, and I have a fondness for expensive single malt Scotch whisky.

I pride myself on my eclectic tastes.  While I prefer the Stones to the Beatles, my favourite album of all time is the Beatles' 1969 masterpiece Abbey Road.  Not surprisingly, my favourite guitarist is Keith Richards, my favourite drummer is Charlie Watts... but my favourite singer?  Otis Redding (no offense, Mick).

And yes, I prefer to use English spellings on words like "favourite," "colour," and "neighbourhood."  I do this primarily to be ornery.

I'm sure I'll be delving into these things as this blog progresses, but time constraints require me to sign off here for now.  The arrogant part of me hopes you enjoy what you will read in the future (or even what you've just read).  Until we meet again...