Black Friday Fiasco

After a crowd rushed the doors and trampled a Wal*Mart employee, contributing to his death, "Black Friday" has forever earned an entirely new connotation. The participants in this tragedy should be ashamed, while police are trying to determine if they shouldn't also be held responsible.

IMHO, the store should, ultimately, be held responsible and criminally negligent. This tradition has been going on long enough for retailers to know the kinds of crowds and the frenzy this event generates— hell, they COUNT on it. Their bottom line may even depend on it. The entire phenomenon is designed to encourage competition and contention among the shoppers. They deliberately stock only a very-limited number of the big sale items in order to encourage early birds. These "teasers" lure shoppers into the store where, hopefully, they will stick around to buy other items even if the sale inventory is already long-gone.

A fight also broke out at another Wal*Mart between people who had been waiting in line for hours and the late arrivals who dared to cut through the doors ahead of them. Then there are the stampedes to the toy and electronics departments where they fight over the last XBox 360. While these scuffles may have a happy ending for one or two, they are clearly a tragedy waiting-to-happen.

I suppose some may find Black Friday an exciting break from the routine Christmas shopping trip; however, I'll stick to the small, local mom 'n pop stores when I can and shop Amazon for the rest. Click, click and I'm done— and I didn't have to hurt anyone to get what I wanted.

The big outlet stores have just lost my respect and my Christmas shopping $$$.

— Gee Vee

He was like a part of our family...

He was that familiar face we never met but looked forward to seeing over dinner each evening. He was a gifted communicator with the unique ability to share the warmth of his personality while never compromising his extraordinary professional standards. He touched our lives and the lives of nearly every family here in Northern Michigan through his news broadcasts. He will be deeply and profoundly missed.

In memory of Dave Walker

(Eugene Telma II)

1945-2008

Photo credit: http://www.upnorthlive.com/

— Gee Vee

Passing Down The Tradition

It's Thanksgiving, and I didn't plan to write an entry this morning. Instead, I've been reading everyone else's Thanksgiving Day blogs and feeling pretty good about the day ahead despite how non-traditional our holiday will be.

My father passed away on July 1. This will be our family's first Thanksgiving without him. My mother is particularly feeling the loss. As there will only be Dan, Mom and I gathered around the table this year, we decided that cooking the big turkey dinner for three people would be a lot of work, so we're going out to a restaurant later this afternoon.

I suppose the decision to break with tradition this year also has a lot to do with our need to change-up the scenery a bit. Setting the holiday table at home with Dad's chair so obviously empty would have been difficult to face. Perhaps if my brother's or sister's families could have joined us, we could have managed the day with more distractions to keep us all from moping. Alas, that is not to be. At least not this year.

After dinner, we'll go to the movies, maybe see Four Christmases. Yes, a comedy might be just the ticket.

Our daughter, Jamie, wrote an opening line in her blog that kind of knocked the wind out me the other day. She wrote that her family was going to have dinner with friends on Thanksgiving. Her family. Because it hit me so, I guess on some level I still haven't let go. I've been giving that some thought since then and realized that I have absolutely nothing to feel glum about.

Instead, I feel almost overwhelming pride. Dan and I spent a good portion of our lives raising Jamie. Sure, we made our share of mistakes, maybe could have been better parents on occasion, but if we use the end result as a measure of our success, we couldn't be more pleased.

You see, you spend years raising your little ones—instilling values, a strong work ethic, educating and giving them a keen sense of their own self-worth. You do all this hoping they'll grow up to stand securely on their own two feet, that they'll be able to confront your empty chair at the table some day comforted by the knowledge that you loved them.

So, today I am thankful that Jamie has her family— a wonderful husband, a healthy, adorable son, the company of friends — to share her day.

I am also thankful for my mother and father who gave so much of themselves in order to make that possible for me to share with her.

Finally, I'm thankful for Dan who has brought so many of his own gifts to share.

— Gee Vee

ADDICTED!

I would be the first to admit, I'm pretty clueless when it comes to understanding the markets on Wall Street. I've never traded stocks or even cared to. However, since early October Dan and I have been closely following the markets, listening to a host of analysts and watching in horror as the value of other people's investments has plunged. CNBC is now on our "favorites" list, and it's the first channel we turn to when we come in from work.

What have I learned?

Wall Street represents the single largest collection of bipolar disorder drama queens I have ever seen in my life!

Every day it's something new with them. Stocks plunge because they need a bailout. They get a bailout and stocks rally briefly because money is on its way then suddenly plunge once more because if the fed actually bailed them out they must be sicker than they realized. Then stocks plunge because Obama hasn't picked a treasury secretary. He announces his choice for treasury secretary, stocks rally briefly— yes, they LOVE his choice— but by the end of the day stocks plunge again because it's not good enough to know who he's picked, they want to know his PLAN.

It would probably be very entertaining to watch (like a soap opera... except, sadly, no sex) if it wasn't so pathetic. Mostly we sit and stare in disbelief. No kidding, turn on CNBC and watch the Closing Bell. Bookmark their web site and check it during the day from your iPhone; watch the pathos unfolding before your very eyes.

I guarantee, like everything else in life that's absolutely no good for you— smoking, gambling, cocaine— you'll be hooked before you know it.

— Gee Vee

The Secret Life of Bees

Last night Dan and I were faced with a conundrum. Should we go see the blockbuster 007 movie, Quantum of Solace, or should we go see the comparatively obscure, The Secret Life of Bees?

Maybe because we really weren't in the mood for blood 'n guts, we opted to take a chance on the Bees movie—and we're so glad we did. It was probably one of the best films either one of us has seen in years. I mean, there was no graphic sex, no flashy special effects, no vampires, no blasé violence, no moronic slapstick comedy or crude gestures to hold our attention, but instead the story proudly stood on its own merit. We left the theater feeling... enriched.

Based on the 2002 novel by Sue Monk Kidd, I'm sure there was quite a bit of symbolism hidden among the layers I haven't had time to interpret, but obviously the bees themselves represent a sisterhood, which was a key component to the plot. The black Madonna is our mother, perhaps our out-of-Africa Eve, nurturing, life-bearing, uniting and sustaining her sisters for our common good.

But even with its sacred feminine overtones, this was a story Dan enjoyed as well. Set in South Carolina in 1964, he liked seeing the now-vintage cars and catching reflections of his own childhood as the story unfolded.

The story was also a painful reminder of our social injustices. Now, as we stand poised to inaugurate our first African-American president and looking back at life in 1964, it's obvious we've evolved as a society. It's only a deep and abiding shame that it's taken so many years to finally arrive at this point.

After seeing the movie, I'd love to read the book and plan to order it soon. I do wish the story had taken more time to develop the characters, particularly that of the eldest sister, August, and perhaps the book has done that. The author has definitely left herself some room for a sequel or perhaps even a prequel.

-- Grandiose Verbosity

No Seconds For Me, Thanks!

Does anyone else get crazy when you hear the media already starting to stir the pot over the 2012 election, or is it just me?

For the love of God, we just elected a new president—he hasn't even been sworn in yet! We've had our fill of politics after the longest campaign season in history, and they're already trying to cram more Palin down our throats. I could just puke. Seriously.

The GOP has created a monster, and now that she's had a chance to be the center of attention (albeit for her entertainment value only...) they're going to have a hard time getting her back in her cage. Meanwhile, the press can't seem to resist "chumming" the waters to see if they can keep her agitated. IMHO, if the Republican party wants to make a serious bid for the White House in 2012, they better find a way to put a muzzle on that particular pit bull.

[sigh]

I know, I know. I'm mixing my metaphors, but what in the heck do you expect at 5:30 in the morning?

-- Gee Vee

This Just Doesn't Fly!

This blog sure has given me a convenient place to vent my spleen. In fact, I'd decided to create two blogs this go 'round because in the past I'd often felt Aunt Robin's Story Hour! just wasn't the right forum to do that.

What I find surprising is the fact that I now spend much more time over here blowing-off steam than I spend over there writing the light-hearted, amusing stuff. Every day I have such good intentions— I truly mean to try and balance the scale, but before I can do that I always seem to stumble across something that either seriously pisses me off or inspires my better angels.

This morning I'm a little pissed-off, and if you've ever been stuck in your plane at the airport, waiting for take-off, I think you will be too.

I just read an article on CNN that explains how a federal task force spent almost a year trying to address the problem of airline passengers being stuck for hours on the tarmac— often without food or water and unable to leave their seat to use the bathroom.

Apparently, the purpose of this federal task force was to establish clear guidelines for the industry on how to handle these types of delays. Unfortunately, the "Tarmac Task Force" will vote on its recommendations today, while the final draft contains absolutely no substantive criteria that will hold airlines accountable.

Among the problems the task force encountered was their inability to agree on what constitutes a "lengthy delay." One hour? Two? Ten hours?

The 36-member task force— comprised primarily of airline industry and airport representatives— quickly determined that they would be unable to come up with a model plan that would be acceptable to a majority of its members.

From the article:

"The report 'is a set of best practices, but there's nothing enforceable where a passenger can say, 'I won't be held up for more than three hours or five hours or eight hours, or without a glass of water or a sandwich,' said Hanni, founder of the Coalition for an Airline Passengers' Bill of Rights.

'We were hoping at a bare minimum to come out of this task force with a definition of what is an extensive on-ground delay,' Hanni said, but that didn't happen because the airline industry 'doesn't want anything that is remotely enforceable.'

'The airlines don't want it, and the airports—several of them major airports—believe they already have plans' to deal with passengers stuck aboard aircraft, said task force member Paul Ruden, a senior vice president at the American Society of Travel Agencies."

A draft of the task force report recommends that:

• Airlines update passengers delayed on tarmacs every 15 minutes even if there is nothing new to report.



• A secure room be provided for passengers from diverted overseas flights so they can avoid having to go through security checks when reboarding an aircraft to their final destination.



• When practical, refreshments and entertainment should be made available to passengers confined aboard aircraft awaiting takeoff.



• Airlines should 'make every reasonable effort' to be keep airplane restrooms usable

The part that really ticks me off is, who in the hell imagined that a group of airline and airport representatives would, even remotely, be willing to hold their own industry accountable. I'm also ticked-off (but not surprised) that it took nearly a year and god-only-knows how many federal tax $$$ for this group to arrive at the recommendations I've notated above— basic, common sense recommendations!

A spokesperson for the Air Transport Association, the trade association for the industry, said the task force "achieved its objective" and that "the success of the task force clearly demonstrates that not every problem requires a new law or regulation, especially when it comes to operational and customer-service issues."

"Customer service"?

What a complete and utter crock of sh--!

-- Gee Vee

"And Still I Rise"

Poet, Maya Angelou, has freed our soul to soar once more with this.

-- Gee Vee

OBAMANIA

One look at today's headlines and it's impossible to disregard the flurry of fervor, the obsession, the Obamania (Hey, I made a new word! Just remember you heard it here first!) that has swept over this county. We are captivated and mesmerized by this charismatic personality. Has destiny just cast Pericles down among us—a leader for the ages? Will history proclaim us witnesses to a defining moment in the human saga? As we hang on his every lucid, literate word, we wonder, "Can he possibly be for real?" We desperately hope that he is.

And we're not alone.

This reader's comment from France:

"Now We Believe In America
By Anonyme France

I was a critic of America as a racist country, the reason Americans appeared quite mean to me. That feeling was changed the very instant Obama was proclaimed president elect of USA. I now wish more than ever before that I was an American. Americans have worked hard to earn this. This event is very defining in the history of the world and it represents an entire change in international politics. Long live the United States of America."

And this from the United Kingdom:

"Gordon Brown, of course, had long defined himself as the 'non-Blair': the man who would restore Labour's soul, cleanse the party's stables and end the spin and the showbusiness. So the next general election looked as though it might be a battle between the 'post-Blair' candidate Cameron and the 'anti-Blair' candidate Brown. In any case, there was no doubt that Blair would remain the pivotal point around which political discourse revolved.

Until that is, the junior Senator for Illinois loped into the history books with his dazzling cocktail of youth, multi-ethnic glamour, oratory and the indefinable aura of infinite possibility. By the early hours of Wednesday every senior politician in Britain was checking himself out in the mirror and asking: 'Does my Obama look big in this?'"

I'm heartened at his sweeping support by the global community and hope that healing our battered image, both here at home and abroad, has already begun.

-- Gee Vee

Just More of the Same

The other day a friend was talking to a propane delivery driver who told him that their business has been very slow. Even most of his customers on "keep full" status have called to stop their propane deliveries. They're angry and not willing to pay the high price they're still being charged for gas.

I explained in an earlier post that propane prices remain high because our local gas companies purchased their winter inventory months ago when the cost of crude oil was still at record-breaking highs. The driver added that what his customers don't understand is that their price isn't going to go down until the current inventory is sold.

Right now we're heating our home with two electric heaters. Actually, we've only had one turned on at night during this recent warm spell and the other turned off entirely. But we will be using these two electric heaters as our primary heat source as long as we're able. Yes, I know when it's -20◦ in February, we'll need to turn on the furnace to help them along, but we're going to be very stingy about it. This is the same story you hear time and time and time again from our friends and neighbors. Heck, unless he heats with wood or pellets, I'd be willing to bet that even the propane driver has an electric heater in his living room right now.

The local gas companies must surely be feeling the pinch through no real fault of their own. They were only using a buying strategy that has always worked for them in the past. Now their sales have faltered and failed, and they're looking at huge losses during the season that should be their gravy months. Perhaps there will be lay-offs among their staff and drivers in an effort to cut costs.

It's getting ugly up here.

Did I happen to mention our local Wal-Mart was nearly deserted when we ran in to pick up some coffee the other night? Seriously, you could hear crickets over the Christmas music in the single largest retail outlet in our community.

Now "GM is staring into an abyss" and bankruptcy seems likely unless the federal government intercedes. I feel a large part of the blame here lies directly on the automakers. They refused to see the writing on the wall and were too late dumping the gas-guzzlers that have yielded record profits for the past two decades. The UAW hasn't helped matters. Did you know that union auto workers had last Tuesday off—a PAID day off—so they could go vote?

Excuse me, but no one gave me a paid day off so I could go exercise my right to vote.

This is exactly the sort of excess that should have been addressed a long time ago. It's insane, and IMHO just one more example of the kind of corporate mismanagement and lack of foresight that has led to this economic fiasco.

Yes, yes, I know I'm venting again—but it feels so good!

-- Gee Vee

Scheduling Nightmares

I suppose this post may indirectly relate to my last entry, although this issue stands on its own for the most part. — GV



In a discussion over dinner at Mom's last night, she mentioned that my eight-year-old nephew is having serious problems coping with the loss of my father, his "Puppa," who died after a long battle with cancer in July. They were very close. He breaks down in tears most nights and whenever they take the kids to the cabin where they spent a lot of time with their grandfather.

His sister, my nine-year-old niece, has been having panic attacks for a couple years and is now seeing a psychologist for counseling. They want to prescribe an anti-depressant for my niece.

Both children are busy almost every night with activities—scout meetings, music lessons (Practice! Practice! Practice!), sports, etc. My niece is a gifted child. This encourages her parents to "challenge" her by piling on the structured activities, although they would deny this assertion. She "pleads" with them to let her take on more. I suspect she is, at least in part, motivated by her parents' expectations (she is gifted after all...), and she doesn't want to disappoint them.

I think most people would agree that, as a society, our lives have become increasingly complex, that the ability to juggle a diverse social agenda and still perform at the top of our game at work is a measure of our success. Rest and relaxation are pretty low on our list of priorities. While some individuals are able to cope with this kind of lifestyle and make it look simple, others struggle to maintain the pace but only succeed in becoming a nervous, overwrought, Type-A basketcase.

Increasingly, we begin to groom our children to be able to function under such ambitious regimes at a very young age. Sometimes we don't even realize we're burying them alive with our high expectations because trying to raise productive, aspiring children is a full-time job in itself, and we're already run-ragged—who has time to notice? We feel like we've failed as parents if our children aren't involved in a diverse structured agenda. Maybe we suspect our daughter has the potential to be her class Valedictorian someday, and her college applications will need to display a well-rounded skill-set to qualify for the best schools.

When we begin to see their mental health showing obvious signs of strain—panic attacks, night terrors, emotional outbursts—we worry that our children are exhibiting a chemical imbalance in their brains of some kind. It never occurs to us that we may be fostering the condition. We collapse into bed each night (in a drug-induced stupor because we're too keyed-up to sleep otherwise), never dreaming that we may be part of the problem, that our own neuroses are mirrored in their small, eager-to-please faces, if only we could see...

In other news, my niece has just been elected to her student council. She's in fourth grade. Student council. The only problem is, the student council meets on the same evening as girl scouts. Her parents are in a quandary—what to do?

Now that's a problem... yes, quite a dilemma. Let's take a look where we can try to fit that in. Do you suppose they could reschedule... ?

-- Gee Vee

Here--just take two pills a day and call me next year.

The presidential candidate I voted for won the election yesterday, and I am happy, relieved, optimistic—even cautiously hopeful for the first time in a very long time (... like, about 8 years). However, I am not doing cartwheels this morning (which is probably a good thing because I'd probably break my neck...).

I am not doing cartwheels this morning because my joy is tempered by the knowledge that my brother is probably very upset that his candidate lost last night.

Needless to say, I have not called my brother, nor am I likely to right away. I just don't want to seem to pour salt in his wounds. I know he's hurting right now, and while I want to begin the healing process, I need to give him a little time to absorb his disappointment.

My brother has been angry. That simple statement is really an understatement. He has been deeply angry and depressed, even more so in recent weeks since the economy took such a nose-dive and McCain has been slipping in the polls. My mother (who also watched her candidate lose last night) has taken the news with greater equanimity, as most reasonable people would do in the same situation.

But despite the way this entry has approached its topic, this isn't about who won or who lost last night. This is about coping with anger, depression, disappointment and even fear.

My mother made a comment to me on the phone this morning that my brother "needs to be on medication," and she may be right. However I also think that there is a very alarming trend in this country that recklessly prescribes pharmaceuticals to help us cope with our problems.

Medicating ourselves until we are comfortably numb has become the quick fix for a society that doesn't have time to slow down. It's kinda like fast food for the psyche, and our physician's office is almost as convenient as a drive-thru during our hectic day. Now even our children are routinely eating anti-depressants like candy from a PEZ dispenser.

What's up with that?

Why have we forgotten how to deal with disappointment?

Why can't we learn to control our tempers when we don't get what we want?

Why can't we have a bad day, week or even a bad month and still know that there will be better days ahead.

Do we take pills to help us cope with LIFE because we've been so over-indulged and spoiled —both individually and as a society—that we can't handle it when things don't go our way? Have the pharmaceutical companies convinced us (at considerable profit for themselves, I might add..) that it's "okay" for us to chemically alter our dispositions for months, even years at a time, rather than take the time to address the root cause of our problems?

Yes, I know there are times when a prescription is absolutely necessary for some people. But I find the scale and scope and casual social acceptance of this trend very disquieting.

Eh, never mind. I think I'll go take two pills and worry about it tomorrow.

-- Gee Vee

Mission Accomplished!

Just do it. I did.

-- Gee Vee

Flame War!

Elementary school history class was my first lesson on the civil war that divided our nation so long ago. It was a story of north versus south, abolitionists versus slave owners, the federal government versus proponents of states' rights. The flames of contention were fueled by widely-divisive, deeply-rooted, conflicting philosophies. There were geographic and social-economic divisions that polarized the entire country.

Ultimately, the war between the states is remembered for pitting brother against brother in a grim battle to the death. We sometimes wince as the old scars still give us a twinge today. Healing the grievous wounds has taken generations. Now we look back from a distance of many years and wonder how could this have happened. How did things get so out of hand?

I believe the current presidential campaign has given us some insight. Today, as we head to the polls to cast our ballots, is the culmination of an often bitter bisection of our country's ideologies.

In my family we are divided right down the middle. When we all go to vote, we will one-by-one cancel each other out. So vote we must, lest the "bad guys" take the advantage. And this is in a family that has never considered itself "democrat" or "republican." We've always voted independent of the party lines. At least that has always been the case in the past.

Now I see my family diametrically opposed, philosophically antipodal. The vast chasms in our fundamental beliefs are creating tectonic rifts. We're openly arguing in earnest. We avoid each other's company, afraid we all might spontaneously combust given flame to the slightest propellant. Lines are drawn in the sand as we huddle together with our like-minded siblings and snarl our frustration across the great divide.

After the blow is dealt on November 4, I'm terrified of the potential backlash we may see on November 5. There is some very serious anger simmering just beneath the surface in this election. I'm frightened by its intensity.

How did things get so out of hand?

-- Gee Vee

Election Day!

-- Gee Vee

Beyond?

In Unhappy Halloween I wrote about the Sci-Fi Channel's hit show, Ghost Hunters. Then this afternoon an article on MSNBC.com caught my eye. It seems many of the gizmos and gadgets used by "professional" ghost busters like Steve Gonsalves can be improvised from items you can find around the house or pick up at your local Radio Shack.




Like most people, I am fascinated by the possibility that there is something... more beyond death, that the life force—the energy that is perhaps our very soul—can manifest itself in some tangible way, perhaps even interact with the world where life goes on without us. I absolutely believe that energy cannot simply disappear; it can only be altered in some way. While shamans, the clergy and theologians have expounded at length on this topic, I don't believe science has even begun to explore the possibilities we may encounter in this altered perspective.

As modern scholars peer back through the ages, back to humanity's dimmest origins, we know that we have alternately speculated about, dreaded and spiritually prepared ourselves for what we may encounter beyond death. Our obsession with the after-life epitomizes the sentient quality that makes mankind unique among the creatures on this earth. It is this heightened consciousness that endows us with a deep appreciation for life and the almost-fatalistic knowledge that there is a clock ticking down for each and every one of us. We know that, even given an absence of disease or accident, after about eighty years (give or take a decade) our bodies will simply wear out. Our lifespan is finite.

For many of us, fear of the unknown beyond death is a powerful incentive to look for answers, proof that we may, ultimately, be able to beat the clock. Personally, I don't mind watching from the sidelines as the professionals document their efforts, but I've absolutely no desire whatsoever to actively participate in the quest.

Frankly, the fear that I might actually encounter a lost soul, that my interface could somehow conjure a dialog or other interaction between their reality and my own, scares the bejabbers outta me. As long as I'm only watching the process on TV, there is always some doubt, a pretty good chance that I'm being hoaxed. Ghosts are something I would have to see for myself to believe.

But I'm not going to run down to the store to buy an EMF detector or a Ouija board because I know that what I might find would open an entire Pandora's Box of issues I'd need to address. It would change my life forever, and there's something very comfortable in skepticism.

-- Gee Vee