I Hate August

Here in Connecticut, we have at least 4 seasons. Probably more. Plus some twilight seasons, such as now in late August, which has been blessedly cool. It's the season of mostly summer with a taste of autumn, known as Sumumn.
But this is an exception. August is a useless month. It adds nothing to the quantity of anyone's life, as far as I know. You name the month, I can tell you at least one good thing about it. I can't think of a single benefit in August. There isn't even a holiday. It's, in fact, the only month of the year without even a minor holiday. In my entire life, I can only think of one friend with a birthday in August. Who wants to be born then? School is out; no one is around to celebrate your birthday. Everyone's irritable. The cake melts before Mom has a chance to set it down. I'll grunt my way through Happy Birthday and then go home and crank the AC. 
Reasons to get rid of August:
1-Brutally hot temperatures, exacerbated by humidity typically not seen in July.
2-Every business contact you need to speak with is out of town. No one is ever around in August. 
3-The social calendar is in limbo because, again, no one is around.
4-Those that are still here are more irritable than at any time of the year. Probably jealous that they're not on vacation. Which I totally get, by the way. 
5- Not only are we more irritable, we're also more incompetent. If one could quantify incompetence, August would rank the highest (or lowest, depending on how you judge these things)
6-For us easterners, watching hurricane paths on the Weather Channel. Which is kind of fun, actually. Unless it's headed your way, as was the case last year with Irene.
7-For those who love summer (of which I'm NOT one), sadness that summer is gone and the days of wearing white are over, which is a CT state law.
8-If you're a baseball fan, this is the month that reality sets in for your team that had a surprisingly strong first half. Such as my NY Mets, for example, who have free fallen since the All Star break. Same for you folks in Cleveland.  August is, in fact, the sports doldrums, unless you're into that thrilling mini-season known as NFL pre-season when, for only 100 dollars, you can watch your favorite player make a cameo appearance in a meaningless game.
9- Finally, as a kid, August meant summer reruns.
But most of all, what I think I dislike most about August is that it ties into my natural impatience. August is molasses. Autumn is the pit stop on the NASCAR life circuit. If each month was represented by a living thing, August's would be a snail. Or if we were to go to partial living things, August's would be a zombie. Because that's what we all are. I want fall to get here so I can revel in our spectacular New England foliage. I want to take the AC out of my window and sleep with the windows open. Better sleep=better quality of life. Exponentially so, in my case.

If I were president, I'd issue a directive making July and September each 45 days long, thus eliminating August altogether. 

I'm an expert

Maybe it's just me. But it seems everyone is now an expert on something. And the title "expert" has not been bestowed upon them. Rather, it's one they've bestowed upon themselves.
It seems to be especially prevalent in sports, usually the perfect match for those who like to self-promote. And it's not a subtle thing. Bloggers, their spouses and their pets all now have the explicit title of "(pick the sport) Expert".  There's actually a group of political journalists who describe themselves as "power players". Essentially the same thing with a little machismo thrown in.
I hate to be left behind. So I now appoint myself an expert in the following areas:

1: Interstates. Give me two cities and I'll tell you what interstate highways connect them. In most cases, even the old US Highways.
2: Capitals: I can tell you the capital of almost any country in the world.
3: Rivers: I can also tell you what rivers run through what regions.

And, uh, as I read this, I notice two things:
1: All this stuff is geography, which is what I have a masters degree in. And it's useless for any practical purpose.
2: Which leads to my 2nd point, and a pattern I noticed many years ago, which is this: What I know and how much money it makes me have a perfect inverse relationship.
To put this in graph form:



As you can clearly see, my "bread and butter" is computer/IT work. Which I have increasingly less passion for. That's why I'm going back to school to become an LCSW/psychotherapist.  (And by the way, isn't this a nice Excel chart? C'mon people, I'm begging for a compliment. Help me out here)

Back to my main point:
What I'm an expert on are not categories that will get me my own McMansion.

But that gives me an idea: I'm now an expert on experts. An "uber-expert", if you will.

If you want to understand experts and the whole expert industry, I'm your man. Just don't expect me to have any expertise.

Lawyers, Guns, and Money

So I'm thinking about guns. All kinds of them. The kind that kill, the kind that protects, the kind that goes between Lawyers and Money and the warm kind that goes after "Happiness is". Even the water guns I used to have fun with.

I have many friends who own guns. Every single one of them is a responsible gun owner. If I thought he/she wasn't "right" (as they say in the south), then I probably wouldn't be friends with them. I haven't polled them about gun rights or what to do about our epidemic of gun violence. But I suspect most, if not all, of them would go all "2nd amendment" on me.

I have probably more friends who don't own guns, as far as I know. Most of them want to see legislation passed, of some kind, to address the madness that's afflicting us. There's no consensus on what they'd like to see. Just "something".

Me, I've never owned a gun in my life. Never intend to. If I do, then I guess I've given up on any hope of a civil society. I may as well build a moat and buy some gators.

I have a natural tendency to mediate things. In this case, to try and find common ground between my two groups of friends. And in fact, there is one important thing in common. That is, we don't want to see any more tragedies like the three we've encountered in about a week. How we address it however is where the common ground ends. On one extreme is my more liberal friends who think that they can take on the NRA. Ain't gonna happen. Just won't. Even Obama doesn't want to take them on.
On the other end are people who think that if everyone packed, then crimes like this won't happen. My gut feeling is that a mass tragedy like this is, in fact, less likely to happen. Simply because someone with a gun might kill the perp as soon as he loads. But...there are problems here that are far worse than the supposed solution:
1: What if the vigilante misses his target?
2: More importantly, what's to stop someone with a gun from killing someone while their head is turned? Or if they're sleeping?
3: If someone is packing and is drunk or otherwise impaired, think he'll be deterred by the possibility of someone else packing? I doubt it.
4: What about a serial killer who uses subterfuge to commit his crime? Think he'll care about the consequences? On the contrary, he'd probably welcome the challenge.
5: Most of all, what does this do to normal civil discourse? Are we now supposed to be scared of disagreeing because the person might blow our brains out? What about talking with strangers? Which is something I actually like to do. I know I'd think twice before having a conversation with someone I just met. You never know...maybe I'll say the wrong thing and get killed over it.

What do we do then? Well, here are three suggestions:
1: Flag people with certain mental illnesses (not enough knowledge to state which ones) so that they cannot own a gun. And make sure that this firewall applies only to this population.
2: Assure the overwhelming majority of law abiding gun owners that their rights are not being threatened.
3: Monitor anyone, mental illness or not, who buys certain automatic weapons and/or large quantities of ammunition over specific periods of time. Had this been done, perhaps the Aurora, CO tragedy could have been prevented. Same for Oak Creek, WI.

These suggestions won't stop all the insanity. But they could help. I challenge anyone who disagrees to come up with their own suggestions.

Mad Men and Laggardness

I confess to being a laggard. A laggard, for some reason, sounds like an insult. "Hey...you laggard." But I take pride in this. Let all the other suckers try that new car, that latest version of Windows, etc. After all the bugs are out and there's a good word of mouth, maybe I'll try it. That partially explains why I'm "I"-less. "I"e, I don't have an I-phone, I-pad, I-pod, I-mac, I-book, or even my own tropical I-sland.


I say all this to help explain why I'm so out of the loop on TV shows. I don't have TV. I still don't believe this little boxes will be successful. No, actually, I don't have TV because I don't want the temptation of having to watch it. Which I would do constantly. And at the risk of sounding like a snob, I really do believe that most of it is crap. Crap that I'd be paying upwards of 60/month for. Crap that I'd still watch, along with the commercials.
Therefore, I have missed some good shows. I know that. My son is a huge Dexter fan. I saw a couple of episodes online and I must say it's pretty good. The show Breaking Bad sounds fascinating. I miss Stephen Colbert, who I really do believe is a comedic genius. I also miss watching Mets games, especially since the Mets trio of announcers, Gary Cohen, Ron Darling, and Keith Hernandez is the best baseball team I've ever seen. And I don't say that just because I'm a Mets fan. Catch them sometimes and you'll be impressed.
I also miss the Weather Channel. But my weather addiction is for another blog.
No, the main subject, what I originally thought I'd blog about, is the much heralded show Mad Men. I borrowed the 1st season from my local library.
For those who don't know, Mad Men is a drama about a group of "Mad Men", which was the term for advertising executives, referring to the geographic epicenter of the industry, Madison Avenue in NYC. The main character is Don Draper, played by Jon Hamm. He's a fascinating character. Handsome, smart, alternately ruthless and kind, intimidating and always mysterious. Like a poker player who may have an inside straight. Or he may have nothing. Which explains much of his intimidation.

I've never seen a show with so much cigarette smoke. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE smokes. Constantly. Most of the smokers drink. Most of the drinkers are drunk. Most of the drunkards are womanizing. (Or "men"-izing for the female characters). Most of the "izing" ends up in bed. And in this pre-Viagra period, everyone still seems to be a great lover. 
I can see why it's racked up as many awards as it has. Interestingly, there's not a single character on the show that is likeable. The men are generally ruthless and crude. The women are generally submissive and powerless. Yet, I must confess, it's fascinating to watch. Completely destroying my rule of drama that in order for me to get into it, there has to be at least one character that I can empathize with. Not here.
Anyway, to get back to my original point. I'm such a laggard that I didn't realize the show has been around for apparently 52 years. No one ever told me about it.
Maybe someday I'll try one of those thingys that heats up food really fast. 

Take me In From The Ballgame

Ah, nothing like a fun day at the ballpark. Hot dogs, beer, grass, beer, the crack of the bat. And beer.

Such were the plans for Sunday, August 12th, when I purchased 4 tickets for me and 3 old college friends to see the Mets "play" the Braves. (Given the Mets level these days, and my ongoing belief in truth in advertising, I feel obliged to use quotes.)

No problems. I purchase the tickets, pay the highway robbery add on fees and we're good to go.

That is, until I got an email a week later from the Mets office saying the game time has now been changed to evening. To accommodate the overlords of baseball, i.e. Fox TV. (Why Fox would choose to broadcast my Mets on a game of the week is another issue, as the Mets, sporting a snazzy 3-13 record since the All Star break,  have officially broken the scientific speed record for downward trajectory. Findings to be published in the next issue of MyTeamSucks.com.)

None of us want to go to a Sunday night game. Most of us have lives that include Monday morning. (Present company excluded) It's embarrassing enough being a Mets fan to begin with. To risk being seen on national TV is one I choose not to take.  This is the same organization that, just a few weeks ago, had a promotional night featuring Snooki. Pretty much says it all.

And speaking of sinking, that's the feeling I get in my stomach when I envision trying to get our tickets switched to a different game. One of my friends predicts it won't be a problem. I'm jealous of his naivete. It says very clearly that tickets can't be switched. My powers of empathy inform me that if it was me who came up with the policy, I'd make an exception if a game time was switched, as it's out of the customer's (fan's) control. And the customer is always right. If I'm a doctor and my patient cancels at the last minute, do I charge him? Absolutely. So I understand the policy. But, if I'm a doctor and decide to reschedule my patient from 2:00 PM to 7:00 PM and he can't make it, do I bill him anyway? Of course not. This is what the Mets are doing.

I quickly realize I'm way more naive than my friend.

I call the Mets office and am told by Jason, who's actually pretty courteous, that Major League Baseball has this policy and the Mets only follow it and therefore, they can't help me. I am told to contact Major League Baseball. I don't know anyone by that name. I know only of Lee Majors and Major Lance, (a somewhat obscure 60's R&B singer) and Major Deegan, which ironically is the name of the parkway that goes by Yankee Stadium. Jason can't help me narrow it down.
My powers of empathy are as relevant as tie died jeans at a Tea Party convention. I curse my powers of empathy and wish that I was as soulless as the faceless bureaucrats who disrespect baseball fans.
I have trouble understanding why an organization that is watching the national pastime become almost irrelevant, if ratings are to be believed, chooses to treat its customers this way.

Not only that, as I project the starting rotation, I realize we won't be seeing Mets ace R.A. Dickey. Really the only reason to go to a game these days. Instead, we'll be seeing the guy who pitches 60% of the Mets games, Chris HefNiese. I already know that even if we have a lead, the bullpen, aka "The Pyromaniacs", won't be able to hold it. 

Let's see...do I drive from North Haven, Connecticut to Citi Field (One more corporate stadium...but that's another blog), pay 20 dollars to park, buy overpriced food, all to watch the Mets lose to the Braves, and then drive back to CT, with an ETA past midnight? Or do I stay home and play online chess?

Answer: King's Knight to King's Bishop 3. 

My cousin Les

Hi anyone out there: Thanks for stopping by. I'd like to launch my 1st blog with a memory of my cousin Les Trachtman, 1934-2012, who passed away 7/20/12. 

If you saw Les or spoke with him, you wouldn't be blown away. In fact, you'd walk away thinking, "Nice guy" and then go on to your next thing. 

But "nice guy" describes Les like "decent basketball player" describes Michael Jordan. 

First, I'm not even sure Les was my cousin. That's because he's my grandmother's sister's son. So perhaps he was an uncle. I never understood family titles and all the "removed" or "2nd" or "3rd" stuff.

Next point: Les lived in Potomac, MD with his wife Gerdy. Their 2 children, Alana and Danny live nearby. Les and Gerdy became grandparents for the first time, in their 70's, 2 years ago. Mom Alana would give birth to their 2^nd granddaughter in 2011. Danny got married for the first time around his 40th birthday. So what we have here is a family that does things at their own pace. And that pace is slooow.  The only exception being the matriarch Gerdy, who is "octi-lingual" and does most things in a blur. Les and Gerdy had one of the most interesting dynamics of any couple I've met. Living proof that opposites can indeed attract.  Two whirlwinds, one external and one internal.

OK, so much for demographics. Let's go to the heart of the matter. Why did I drive from CT to Washington DC and back in one day for a memorial service? There are very few people in my life who I'd make a trip like that for. But Les wasn't just anyone. Les was one of the genuinely nicest, kindest, and most humble people I've ever met. 

Les was also a gifted photographer. And as the rabbi said at the memorial service, Les saw the world much like a photographer in the sense that he saw beauty in most everything he did. And he added that beauty to the world. Danny saw Les at the hospital a few days before his passing. Danny asked his dad what the most important values were in life. Although weakened by the leukemia that would take him 2 days later, Les didn't hesitate to answer. He said "Empathy and humility." Simple answer. Just two words. But how many of us live by those standards? I try, and fail miserably most of the time. I suspect there were times in Les' life that he was less than empathic or humble. But I never witnessed any of those moments. 

Les loved to suggest things. All the time, usually unsolicited. What business was it of his to suggest that I look for jobs in a certain way? Who did he think he was suggesting career changes to me? Did I ask his opinion? No, I didn't. But when Les suggested anything, he wasn't married to the suggestion. He was fine if the suggestion was ignored. Which I generally did. But Les was a fount of ideas. And curiosity. And humor. And wisdom. 

At the memorial service, I learned that Les would love to talk with folks just doing their job in public service (as I like to do as well). Cashiers, janitors, blue collar America. He'd smile, strike up a conversation with a question or two. Why? Because he was curious. And because he knew in his heart that we were all equal. There were 2 words that seemed to be totally divorced from Les' life. Those 2 words were ego and judgment.

No, you wouldn't be blown away after speaking with Les. But you'd feel just a little bit better about yourself. Is there a better gift that anyone can give? 

RIP, cousin (uncle?) Les.