Some more partly baked ideas for a Friday morning: Last time, it was amending the Constitution. This time, it's adding and subtracting states. I mean, let's face it -- aren't you as bored as I am with the arrangement of stars on the flag already? The only way that'll change is if the number of states changes. So, here goes...
Enough already with territories and commonwealths. Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, and the District of Columbia all become states. Guam is a big boy now and can stand on its own as an independent country -- let's face it, there are enough Pacific island countries smaller than Guam already. Same with whatever small island groups we have left over from World War II.
Do we really need north, south, and west states? I don't think so. Combine North Dakota and South Dakota into one state. Same with Virginia and West Virginia, which were all one state until the Civil War. I'd make one exception, though: the Carolinas. Because I think the original 13 states shouldn't be turned into the not-so-original 12. (All right, so I'm a sentimental historical softie. It's my blog, so deal with it.)
Break up a couple of the biggies. Did you know that when Texas joined the United States, they had the right (still do, actually) to split into up to five smaller states? Maybe five is a little much, but good God, that's one ugly blotch of a state. Slightly schizophrenic, too; I just don't see the resemblances between the Gulf Coast and the Panhandle, or the Dallas area and the Houston area. I can see giving the Panhandle to Oklahoma and splitting the remainder in roughly equal parts, and the Texans probably have a better notion of just how to split than anyone else (certainly, better than I).
And speaking of schizophrenic states, ladies and gentlemen, I give you California. Has there ever been such a mental split as the mindsets of San Francisco and Los Angeles? Cut it in half, I say, and they'd both sleep easier.
Of course, the real fun comes in giving names to all these new Texas and California states. I'll leave that to you. (Who says I can't share?)
Friday, August 27, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
How I entertain myself on dull evenings: I remake government. Oh, not in the "first, we surround Congress with troops; then, we break into the White House, overpower the Secret Service, and take the President hostage" way of which action movies are so very fond. No, my thoughts run more to amending the Constitution and making government better. At least, as I concieve "better government" to be.
To that end, recently I dusted off my notes on new amendments -- six of them, to be exact -- and hereby display them to you, my loyal readers, as the partly baked ideas they are.
28th Amendment: This one provides for the direct election of the President and Vice-President. No more of this Electoral College bullshit where states with large populations (and therefore more electoral votes) are wined and dined to a fare-thee-well while the rest of the states get leftovers. High time for the candidates, and the political parties, to have to figure out how to appeal to the majority of people who are likely to come out and vote on Election Day instead of the 537 people who vote on a day in mid-December.
The first thing this does is repeal the last amendment about voting for the President and VP (that's the 12th Amendment, if you care to look it up). And while the new 28th Amendment retains a lot of the language from the 12th, there are certain major differences.
For example, electors are not tied to representation in the House and Senate. A state can appoint as many electors as it wants. But, the sole duty of the electors is to verify the vote counts for the Prez and the Veep from their state and pass them along, in writing, to the Senate President. And it's the people with the majority of the popular votes cast who win, not the people with the majority of the electoral votes.
And the process of what to do when nobody has a majority of the votes cast stays the same.
Isn't it time we elected our Chief Executive and his number two person directly? Yeah, I think so too.
29th Amendment: This one eliminates four existing amendments and puts them all (plus a little bit more) in one handy spot.
The amendments that go away are the 15th, 19th, 26th, and 24th. For those of you who don't have them memorized, respectively that's the right to vote for former Negro slaves, women, and 18-year-olds, and the one that says you can't be blocked from voting because you can't pay a poll tax.
The new one is a tad more comprehensive. It starts out by saying that the rights of US citizens cannot be denied or abridged based on race, sex, age, sexual orientation, disability, religious belief, or country of origin. (And in case you didn't notice, that "sex" part means that the old Equal Rights Amendment is tucked right in here.)
"Wait," I hear you saying, "where's the part about voting?" That comes next. The wording of the 15th 19th, and 26th Amendments is combined into one statement. And that's followed by the wording about poll taxes from the 24th Amendment. It's all there. Nothing's been left out, and in a couple of places it's been expanded a bit.
30th Amendment: Did you know the Constitution originally forbid any direct taxes unless they were proportionally based on the Census? The federal government ran along just fine until 1913 without an income tax (a direct tax not proportionally based on population figures). Granted, the government didn't do as much in 1913 as it does in 2010, but still the founders knew the temptation to go spending money and pay for it by taking it away from people based on, oh, any formula or theory you could think up. And unlike things like, say, tariffs on imports, when you can run an income tax you don't have to worry about the consequences on things like manufacturing or wages or costs.
So we grumble, and we fill out forms every April. Why? Because Woodrow Wilson could see the war clouds gathering over Europe (and they broke in 1914), knew the US would most likely be drawn into it sooner or later, and also knew he'd need money to build up the armed forces, with both men and materiel. And what a coincidence! The 16th Amendment was passed in 1913 to allow a fast and easy way to raise large amounts of money! Well, World War I ended in 1918, World War II ended some 30 years later, and after lovely tours of such places as Korea, Vietnam, Granada, Iraq, and Afghanistan, I think we don't need an income tax to help fight a world war. Who knows? Maybe politicians, deprived of their fix, will actually sit down and give serious consideration to what the federal government needs to spend money on, what it really doesn't need to spend money on, will finally cut the size of the bureaucracy.
To sum up: Repeal the 16th Amendment by passing the 30th Amendment.
31st Amendment: Ever hear of the New Jersey Compromise? This goes back to the writing of the Constitution, where large states wanted a legislature whose membership was based on population, while small states wanted a legislature whose membership would give each state an equal number of votes. New Jersey came up with the solution: one house based on population (the House of Representatives), and one where each state had the same number of votes (the Senate). The House represented the people, while the Senate represented the states. State legislatures appointed Senators; the people voted for Representatives; and everyone was sort of fine with that.
Until 1913. Then it was thought shameful that Senators were appointed by state legislatures (whose members were, after all, voted into office by the people). Thus came the process whereby Senators were elected by the people, too. So, instead of having a great deliberative body, able to coolly assess legislation created by the House (whose members were subject to the shifting political opinions of their constituents) because they were appointed and not elected, you now have two houses both subject to those shifting political opinions.
I say, time to bring that nonsense to a halt. Repeal the 17th Amendment, which called for the direct election of Senators, by means of passing the 31st Amendment.
(By the way: Do you get the feeling that amendments passed in 1913 were, by and large, not really thought through? Me too.)
32nd Amendment: There's two ways to go with this one, which limits Presidents to two consecutive terms and no more. The Republican Congress, unhappy with watching FDR win third and fourth terms, decided to put a stop to it, and so we got the 22nd Amendment.
One way to go is to repeal the 22nd Amendment. This would allow more than two terms (like FDR) for any one person, or multiple non-consecutive terms (like Grover Cleveland).
The other way to go is to keep the presidential term limits, but add limits for Senators and Representatives. I'm suggesting two consecutive terms (or twelve years) for Senators and three consecutive terms (or six years) for Representatives, while keeping the two consecutive term rule (eight years) for Presidents. But I would remove the ban against non-consecutive terms.
Because if it's necessary and proper for the President to have term limits, it's only fair that Senators and Representatives have term limits as well. One thing it's safe to say about the Founding Fathers is that they never envisioned the day when there would be a professional class office-holders in the Executive and Legislative branches.
33rd Amendment: This is not original with me (probably none of these Amendment proposals is totally original with me, but especially this one). It stems in part from the fact that Congress is exempt from laws in regard of its members as employers. So it's pretty simple: Ban Congress from making any law from which its members are exempt; and ban Congress from making any laws that apply to its members alone. Again, it's only fair. And maybe Congress will think twice about some regulatory legislation if they realize that they'd be subject to it themselves.
To that end, recently I dusted off my notes on new amendments -- six of them, to be exact -- and hereby display them to you, my loyal readers, as the partly baked ideas they are.
28th Amendment: This one provides for the direct election of the President and Vice-President. No more of this Electoral College bullshit where states with large populations (and therefore more electoral votes) are wined and dined to a fare-thee-well while the rest of the states get leftovers. High time for the candidates, and the political parties, to have to figure out how to appeal to the majority of people who are likely to come out and vote on Election Day instead of the 537 people who vote on a day in mid-December.
The first thing this does is repeal the last amendment about voting for the President and VP (that's the 12th Amendment, if you care to look it up). And while the new 28th Amendment retains a lot of the language from the 12th, there are certain major differences.
For example, electors are not tied to representation in the House and Senate. A state can appoint as many electors as it wants. But, the sole duty of the electors is to verify the vote counts for the Prez and the Veep from their state and pass them along, in writing, to the Senate President. And it's the people with the majority of the popular votes cast who win, not the people with the majority of the electoral votes.
And the process of what to do when nobody has a majority of the votes cast stays the same.
Isn't it time we elected our Chief Executive and his number two person directly? Yeah, I think so too.
29th Amendment: This one eliminates four existing amendments and puts them all (plus a little bit more) in one handy spot.
The amendments that go away are the 15th, 19th, 26th, and 24th. For those of you who don't have them memorized, respectively that's the right to vote for former Negro slaves, women, and 18-year-olds, and the one that says you can't be blocked from voting because you can't pay a poll tax.
The new one is a tad more comprehensive. It starts out by saying that the rights of US citizens cannot be denied or abridged based on race, sex, age, sexual orientation, disability, religious belief, or country of origin. (And in case you didn't notice, that "sex" part means that the old Equal Rights Amendment is tucked right in here.)
"Wait," I hear you saying, "where's the part about voting?" That comes next. The wording of the 15th 19th, and 26th Amendments is combined into one statement. And that's followed by the wording about poll taxes from the 24th Amendment. It's all there. Nothing's been left out, and in a couple of places it's been expanded a bit.
30th Amendment: Did you know the Constitution originally forbid any direct taxes unless they were proportionally based on the Census? The federal government ran along just fine until 1913 without an income tax (a direct tax not proportionally based on population figures). Granted, the government didn't do as much in 1913 as it does in 2010, but still the founders knew the temptation to go spending money and pay for it by taking it away from people based on, oh, any formula or theory you could think up. And unlike things like, say, tariffs on imports, when you can run an income tax you don't have to worry about the consequences on things like manufacturing or wages or costs.
So we grumble, and we fill out forms every April. Why? Because Woodrow Wilson could see the war clouds gathering over Europe (and they broke in 1914), knew the US would most likely be drawn into it sooner or later, and also knew he'd need money to build up the armed forces, with both men and materiel. And what a coincidence! The 16th Amendment was passed in 1913 to allow a fast and easy way to raise large amounts of money! Well, World War I ended in 1918, World War II ended some 30 years later, and after lovely tours of such places as Korea, Vietnam, Granada, Iraq, and Afghanistan, I think we don't need an income tax to help fight a world war. Who knows? Maybe politicians, deprived of their fix, will actually sit down and give serious consideration to what the federal government needs to spend money on, what it really doesn't need to spend money on, will finally cut the size of the bureaucracy.
To sum up: Repeal the 16th Amendment by passing the 30th Amendment.
31st Amendment: Ever hear of the New Jersey Compromise? This goes back to the writing of the Constitution, where large states wanted a legislature whose membership was based on population, while small states wanted a legislature whose membership would give each state an equal number of votes. New Jersey came up with the solution: one house based on population (the House of Representatives), and one where each state had the same number of votes (the Senate). The House represented the people, while the Senate represented the states. State legislatures appointed Senators; the people voted for Representatives; and everyone was sort of fine with that.
Until 1913. Then it was thought shameful that Senators were appointed by state legislatures (whose members were, after all, voted into office by the people). Thus came the process whereby Senators were elected by the people, too. So, instead of having a great deliberative body, able to coolly assess legislation created by the House (whose members were subject to the shifting political opinions of their constituents) because they were appointed and not elected, you now have two houses both subject to those shifting political opinions.
I say, time to bring that nonsense to a halt. Repeal the 17th Amendment, which called for the direct election of Senators, by means of passing the 31st Amendment.
(By the way: Do you get the feeling that amendments passed in 1913 were, by and large, not really thought through? Me too.)
32nd Amendment: There's two ways to go with this one, which limits Presidents to two consecutive terms and no more. The Republican Congress, unhappy with watching FDR win third and fourth terms, decided to put a stop to it, and so we got the 22nd Amendment.
One way to go is to repeal the 22nd Amendment. This would allow more than two terms (like FDR) for any one person, or multiple non-consecutive terms (like Grover Cleveland).
The other way to go is to keep the presidential term limits, but add limits for Senators and Representatives. I'm suggesting two consecutive terms (or twelve years) for Senators and three consecutive terms (or six years) for Representatives, while keeping the two consecutive term rule (eight years) for Presidents. But I would remove the ban against non-consecutive terms.
Because if it's necessary and proper for the President to have term limits, it's only fair that Senators and Representatives have term limits as well. One thing it's safe to say about the Founding Fathers is that they never envisioned the day when there would be a professional class office-holders in the Executive and Legislative branches.
33rd Amendment: This is not original with me (probably none of these Amendment proposals is totally original with me, but especially this one). It stems in part from the fact that Congress is exempt from laws in regard of its members as employers. So it's pretty simple: Ban Congress from making any law from which its members are exempt; and ban Congress from making any laws that apply to its members alone. Again, it's only fair. And maybe Congress will think twice about some regulatory legislation if they realize that they'd be subject to it themselves.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Revenge of the Unemployed, sort of: As many of you know, I've been looking for full time work for the past few years. To that end, I'm on a number of job search lists online -- CareerBuilder.com, Idealist.org, and Monster.com, to name a few. Two weeks ago, I sent a resume and cover letter to an employer on CareerBuilder.com who was offering a job I was ideally suited for. I got back CareerBuilder's usual acknowledgement e-mail, saying my resume had been sent to the potential employer. And nothing else, neither from CareerBuilder or the employer.
Yesterday I got an e-mail from CareerBuilder listing job openings. And guess what job appeared again? Yup. Same employer, same job. So I sent them my resume -- again -- but instead of a cover letter, I sent the letter that follows. Hope you enjoy the read...
Yesterday I got an e-mail from CareerBuilder listing job openings. And guess what job appeared again? Yup. Same employer, same job. So I sent them my resume -- again -- but instead of a cover letter, I sent the letter that follows. Hope you enjoy the read...
This is not a cover letter -- at least, it's not a traditional cover letter; but this is the first opportunity I've had to say this to someone for whom it might matter.
Roughly two weeks ago, I sent you my resume for the Event Assistant position with a "standard" cover letter, via CareerBuilder.com. I got the usual e-mail response from CareerBuilder -- that my resume had been sent to you and that, if I met your requirements, I would be hearing from you. I heard nothing else about this job until yesterday, when I received another notice from CareerBuilder of jobs available, showing the Event Assistant job still posted.
This way of getting people to apply for available jobs just isn't good enough anymore.
It used to be that, if a resume did not match what the employer wanted, an applicant would get a polite message saying so, usually also saying that the resume would be kept on file "just in case." Companies with slightly better manners would mention specific things that made the resume a near-miss. And in any event, there would be a name and address, or a phone number, so that the applicant could thank the employer and touch base to check on future job openings.
These days, resumes are sent into an e-mail black hole. They are never responded to, and companies refuse to give contact numbers -- or, in most cases, names -- for applicants to check back.
This is, to put it bluntly, rude and officious, cold and discourteous on the part of employers. And, given the ongoing state of the economy, few job applicants would dare make a complaint about this, even if there were a way to do so.
So, I take this opportunity to lodge my complaint about this practice. To have one's resume -- the record of one's professional life -- be received without even an acknowledgment *from the employer* is a crushing blow to one's self-confidence, especially if one has been looking a long time for another job.
I want this job because I have done it in the past, and I know I can do it to your satisfaction. I think I can do it well enough that, when the time comes, you would be willing to hire me on a full-time basis. I see it as part of the communication skills that every employer wants in an applicant that, when there is a problem that needs addressing, the employer will get the message -- effectively and honestly -- from their employees.
Which is why I say to you now: Have the courage and the grace to respond to those who have the courage to put their resumes, their records of their business lives, out there for you. Because this is a time when we all need to be a bit more humane. We owe that to each other.
Thank you.
Thursday, August 05, 2010
A Tale of Two Cases. Just last month, we were celebrating a federal judge's ruling in Massachusetts that, in effect, declared major sections of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) unconstitutional. Today, we celebrate a federal judge's ruling in California that Proposition 8 -- a hateful piece of prejudice used to remove rights to marry already granted to gay and lesbian couples in that state -- is unconstitutional. Of course, both decisions have been appealed, and so they work their way up the federal judicial chain, possibly ending in the Supreme Court.
Just to state the obvious, these are two separate cases about two separate issues. Yesterday's ruling in California stated that the attempt to bar same-sex couples from legal civil marriage was discriminatory on its face and served no compelling purpose of the state government. This violated the Due Process and Equal Protection clauses of the 14th Amendment, making Proposition 8 unconstitutional. The judge made it clear in his decision that if a law is unconstitutional it makes no difference how many people voted in favor of it, it's still null and void.
Last month's ruling in Massachusetts stated that DOMA, in stating that for federal purposes marriage was between one man and one woman, put the federal government in the business of deciding which state-sanctioned marriages were federally legal and which were not. This not only violated the 14th Amendment (again, the Due Process and Equal Protection clauses), it violated the little-known 10th Amendment. The 10th Amendment states that... oh, hell, I'm not going to paraphrase it. Here's the full text (don't worry, it's brief):
"The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people."
Got it? If the feds haven't been given the power by the Constitution, and the states aren't barred from doing it by the Constitution, then the power belongs to the states (cause the feds don't have it), or to the people (cause the states are barred from doing it). The Constitution doesn't give the feds power to decide which marriages are legal and which aren't, so that power belongs to the states (since the Constitution doesn't say the states can't decide that). Massachusetts has decided that same-sex marriages are legal. Thus the feds can't say they're not legal, which is what DOMA does by defining what a legal marriage is at the federal level. (This would also apply in all other states where same-sex marriage is legal, as well.)
The decisions of the federal District Courts having been appealed, the cases next head for their respective Circuit Courts of Appeal (the 1st in Massachusetts, the 9th in California). The cases will most likely be heard by a three-judge panel, chosen from a pool of available circuit court judges. They may be heard en banc, meaning that all active circuit court judges hear the case. It is most likely that whatever decisions are reached by the Circuit Courts will be appealed to the Supreme Court.
The Supreme Court will hear a case if four Justices vote to hear it. Otherwise, the appeal will be refused and the lower court decision will stand. In regards to the California case, if it reaches the Supreme Court, a decision could be rendered in 2011 or 2012.
So, does this mean gay couples can get married in California again? Well, no. The defendants in this case (the people supporting Prop 8) not only appealed to the Circuit Court, they also asked for a stay -- a delay until an appeal is heard -- in executing the judge's decision. Reports conflict (as of this writing), but it seems like the judge granted a temporary stay for a fixed number of days. If the stay is not made more permanent, wedding bells get to ring out for same-sex couples again. But if it is, things stay just as they are until the Circuit Court makes its ruling.
And what do we do now? For today, celebrate. Yesterday's ruling was a victory, historic in its potential scope, and we should take time to revel and be glad. Tomorrow is time enough to get back to work and ensure that wins in Massachusetts and California get turned into wins for all gay men and lesbians, in all states.
Just to state the obvious, these are two separate cases about two separate issues. Yesterday's ruling in California stated that the attempt to bar same-sex couples from legal civil marriage was discriminatory on its face and served no compelling purpose of the state government. This violated the Due Process and Equal Protection clauses of the 14th Amendment, making Proposition 8 unconstitutional. The judge made it clear in his decision that if a law is unconstitutional it makes no difference how many people voted in favor of it, it's still null and void.
Last month's ruling in Massachusetts stated that DOMA, in stating that for federal purposes marriage was between one man and one woman, put the federal government in the business of deciding which state-sanctioned marriages were federally legal and which were not. This not only violated the 14th Amendment (again, the Due Process and Equal Protection clauses), it violated the little-known 10th Amendment. The 10th Amendment states that... oh, hell, I'm not going to paraphrase it. Here's the full text (don't worry, it's brief):
"The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people."
Got it? If the feds haven't been given the power by the Constitution, and the states aren't barred from doing it by the Constitution, then the power belongs to the states (cause the feds don't have it), or to the people (cause the states are barred from doing it). The Constitution doesn't give the feds power to decide which marriages are legal and which aren't, so that power belongs to the states (since the Constitution doesn't say the states can't decide that). Massachusetts has decided that same-sex marriages are legal. Thus the feds can't say they're not legal, which is what DOMA does by defining what a legal marriage is at the federal level. (This would also apply in all other states where same-sex marriage is legal, as well.)
The decisions of the federal District Courts having been appealed, the cases next head for their respective Circuit Courts of Appeal (the 1st in Massachusetts, the 9th in California). The cases will most likely be heard by a three-judge panel, chosen from a pool of available circuit court judges. They may be heard en banc, meaning that all active circuit court judges hear the case. It is most likely that whatever decisions are reached by the Circuit Courts will be appealed to the Supreme Court.
The Supreme Court will hear a case if four Justices vote to hear it. Otherwise, the appeal will be refused and the lower court decision will stand. In regards to the California case, if it reaches the Supreme Court, a decision could be rendered in 2011 or 2012.
So, does this mean gay couples can get married in California again? Well, no. The defendants in this case (the people supporting Prop 8) not only appealed to the Circuit Court, they also asked for a stay -- a delay until an appeal is heard -- in executing the judge's decision. Reports conflict (as of this writing), but it seems like the judge granted a temporary stay for a fixed number of days. If the stay is not made more permanent, wedding bells get to ring out for same-sex couples again. But if it is, things stay just as they are until the Circuit Court makes its ruling.
And what do we do now? For today, celebrate. Yesterday's ruling was a victory, historic in its potential scope, and we should take time to revel and be glad. Tomorrow is time enough to get back to work and ensure that wins in Massachusetts and California get turned into wins for all gay men and lesbians, in all states.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
How I'd Like to Be Remembered: I was at a memorial service yesterday for someone I'd known for many years. He was an activist for GLBT rights back when it wasn't cool. He was remembered for his activism, for his personal quirks, and above all for his service to not just the GLBT communities but the state as a whole. Those who spoke told of him as a brother, an uncle, an activist, and a friend. There were people there I hadn't seen in many years. It was moving and solemn. It made me think of how I'd like my own memorial service to be.
Top of the list: Not like his.
I want raucous. I want dirty jokes and embarrassing anecdotes. I want food that is definitely Not Good For You, in large quantities. I want people shattering diets and ignoring all the good advice their doctors gave them. I want beer flowing like wine, wine flowing like water, and water flowing only to wash your hands before the next course. And a private keg of Guinness just for my honeybear.
I want music. I want to be sung into heaven, and I want all of it to be show tunes --Broadway good, off-Broadway OK, movies if you must -- but if I hear "Ave Maria" or "Amazing Grace" or anything like that, I will come back to earth and kick the singer's ass off the stage. I want "Comedy Tonight" to start it off (the whole damn thing), and "Walk Him Up the Stairs" to end with. I want Sondheim and Jerry Herman and the Gershwin brothers and Richard Rodgers (with all his lyricists). I want Frank Loesser and Cole Porter and Irving Berlin and Jerome Kern. I want Kander and Ebb, Ahrens and Flaherty, Lopez and Marx, Comden and Green, Jule Styne, Cy Coleman, Leonard Bernstein, Marvin Hamlisch, Adams and Strouse, even Mel Brooks. I want people who sing, singing. I want people who *don't* sing, singing.
I want my life celebrated, not memorialized. I want everyone still living who knew me to be there. I want it in the late spring or the early fall, my favorite times of the year. I want the only tears to be from laughing too much. I want it to be the party they'll talk about for years to come.
I don't think I'm asking too much. And it's not like I'll need it tomorrow. But this is What I Want, and What I Need, and I don't express those things all that much.
So, when the time comes, do this for me. Thanks.
Top of the list: Not like his.
I want raucous. I want dirty jokes and embarrassing anecdotes. I want food that is definitely Not Good For You, in large quantities. I want people shattering diets and ignoring all the good advice their doctors gave them. I want beer flowing like wine, wine flowing like water, and water flowing only to wash your hands before the next course. And a private keg of Guinness just for my honeybear.
I want music. I want to be sung into heaven, and I want all of it to be show tunes --Broadway good, off-Broadway OK, movies if you must -- but if I hear "Ave Maria" or "Amazing Grace" or anything like that, I will come back to earth and kick the singer's ass off the stage. I want "Comedy Tonight" to start it off (the whole damn thing), and "Walk Him Up the Stairs" to end with. I want Sondheim and Jerry Herman and the Gershwin brothers and Richard Rodgers (with all his lyricists). I want Frank Loesser and Cole Porter and Irving Berlin and Jerome Kern. I want Kander and Ebb, Ahrens and Flaherty, Lopez and Marx, Comden and Green, Jule Styne, Cy Coleman, Leonard Bernstein, Marvin Hamlisch, Adams and Strouse, even Mel Brooks. I want people who sing, singing. I want people who *don't* sing, singing.
I want my life celebrated, not memorialized. I want everyone still living who knew me to be there. I want it in the late spring or the early fall, my favorite times of the year. I want the only tears to be from laughing too much. I want it to be the party they'll talk about for years to come.
I don't think I'm asking too much. And it's not like I'll need it tomorrow. But this is What I Want, and What I Need, and I don't express those things all that much.
So, when the time comes, do this for me. Thanks.
It seems I'm spending today posting essays and notes I put on my Facebook page over the last year or so. Here's another one, from May 2009.
Things I've Learned
1. I learned long ago that I wasn't put here to validate anyone else's belief system. So if you tell me "I can't believe you (did X)", you'd better start believing it because I did it. Otherwise you're denying reality, and that's not healthy.
2. I give my best performance at the last rehearsal, probably because I'm proving myself for the only audience that truly counts -- my fellow players.
3. Over the years I have struggled to master my emotions. Don't tell me I should get in touch with them -- I know exactly where they are, and I'm not having them over for dinner.
4. On the other hand, if you see me let go, especially with the more violent emotions, then you've pushed me past my endurance limit. At that point, neither running and hiding nor abject apology are viable options for you.
5. Your acquaintances will always try to change something about you, and it will always be something that you do not share in common. Your friends will always widen and deepen what you have in common and respect the differences.
6. Magic exists, but its true practitioners never know they're wielding it.
7. The best gift you can craft for someone is a memory.
8. No holiday should last beyond its date. A world full of extended holidays is as oppressive as a world with no holidays.
9. For every birthday, there is an equal but opposite un-birthday. Celebrate them both.
10. I made a deal with God when I was young: If He would take care of the major problems, I wouldn't bother Him with the small stuff. We've both kept our ends of the bargain.
11. Everyone should have a day every so often when they are told by everyone in their lives how much they are appreciated or cared for or loved. The recipient is obligated to believe wholeheartedly what they are told.
12. There can be too much of a good thing, but you never realize it at the time.
13. In physics, God does not play dice with the universe. In genetics, however, He does play roulette.
Things I've Learned
1. I learned long ago that I wasn't put here to validate anyone else's belief system. So if you tell me "I can't believe you (did X)", you'd better start believing it because I did it. Otherwise you're denying reality, and that's not healthy.
2. I give my best performance at the last rehearsal, probably because I'm proving myself for the only audience that truly counts -- my fellow players.
3. Over the years I have struggled to master my emotions. Don't tell me I should get in touch with them -- I know exactly where they are, and I'm not having them over for dinner.
4. On the other hand, if you see me let go, especially with the more violent emotions, then you've pushed me past my endurance limit. At that point, neither running and hiding nor abject apology are viable options for you.
5. Your acquaintances will always try to change something about you, and it will always be something that you do not share in common. Your friends will always widen and deepen what you have in common and respect the differences.
6. Magic exists, but its true practitioners never know they're wielding it.
7. The best gift you can craft for someone is a memory.
8. No holiday should last beyond its date. A world full of extended holidays is as oppressive as a world with no holidays.
9. For every birthday, there is an equal but opposite un-birthday. Celebrate them both.
10. I made a deal with God when I was young: If He would take care of the major problems, I wouldn't bother Him with the small stuff. We've both kept our ends of the bargain.
11. Everyone should have a day every so often when they are told by everyone in their lives how much they are appreciated or cared for or loved. The recipient is obligated to believe wholeheartedly what they are told.
12. There can be too much of a good thing, but you never realize it at the time.
13. In physics, God does not play dice with the universe. In genetics, however, He does play roulette.
I created the following shortly after the death of my father, George Neuner Jr., in November of 2003. I originally wrote it for myself, then read it at one of Pandora Scooter's "Out of the Box" open mic shows. This year, around Father's Day, I posted it to Facebook, where it kindled responses from many of my friends, several of whom were inspired to go back and dig out old photo albums with pictures of their fathers. I post it for you here, now.
For My Father: November 2003
As I write this, Thanksgiving is only a week away. It’s traditionally a holiday where families gather together, although since my family moved to Florida it hasn’t been that for me in a long time. But this year, I’m thinking about family, and especially my dad.
For most of my life, Dad was a driver for a succession of trucking companies. For many of those years, he was also the union shop steward. His last years in trucking were spent in management. He worked hard and he made a good life for his family.
Dad loved Florida. He and Mom would take as many vacations there as they could. When his older sister moved down there, it started the wheels turning, and pretty soon he was buying property and arranging to have a home built. When the time came, he and Mom said good-bye to New Jersey forever without a backward glance. I don’t remember any other home they were so happy in, or any other place they’d rather have lived.
Dad spent the first year of his retirement puttering around, but he learned from his father what not to do in retirement. Dad went back to work at a Publix supermarket, and I used to tease him that after all these years my father had become a bag boy. He also made time to get involved with town and county politics, with the same pleasure doing civic work that he had in any of his jobs.
I was very lucky that my family was very matter-of-fact about my gayness. It wasn’t discussed or debated; it was just there, and it suited me, and so what? There were times when I thought I wasn’t the son my dad might have wanted, but I knew he loved and was proud of the son he had.
My dad was 74 years old when he died in the early hours of November 14. He was where he wanted to be, at home, in Florida; he was with my mother, his high school sweetheart, married for 53 years; and he went quickly, the way he wanted. One day, when she’s ready, Mom will scatter his ashes during one of the Florida sunsets he loved so much.
I have his eyes and his nose. I have the star sapphire ring my mother gave him so long ago. I have pictures and memories and a thousand unspoken lessons on what it is to be a man. But I’ll never hear him laugh again at one of my smart-ass remarks. I’ll never again hear him call me Buddy – his private nickname for me, one that no one else used. I’ll never have my Dad again.
And I’ll always carry him with me.
For most of my life, Dad was a driver for a succession of trucking companies. For many of those years, he was also the union shop steward. His last years in trucking were spent in management. He worked hard and he made a good life for his family.
Dad loved Florida. He and Mom would take as many vacations there as they could. When his older sister moved down there, it started the wheels turning, and pretty soon he was buying property and arranging to have a home built. When the time came, he and Mom said good-bye to New Jersey forever without a backward glance. I don’t remember any other home they were so happy in, or any other place they’d rather have lived.
Dad spent the first year of his retirement puttering around, but he learned from his father what not to do in retirement. Dad went back to work at a Publix supermarket, and I used to tease him that after all these years my father had become a bag boy. He also made time to get involved with town and county politics, with the same pleasure doing civic work that he had in any of his jobs.
I was very lucky that my family was very matter-of-fact about my gayness. It wasn’t discussed or debated; it was just there, and it suited me, and so what? There were times when I thought I wasn’t the son my dad might have wanted, but I knew he loved and was proud of the son he had.
My dad was 74 years old when he died in the early hours of November 14. He was where he wanted to be, at home, in Florida; he was with my mother, his high school sweetheart, married for 53 years; and he went quickly, the way he wanted. One day, when she’s ready, Mom will scatter his ashes during one of the Florida sunsets he loved so much.
I have his eyes and his nose. I have the star sapphire ring my mother gave him so long ago. I have pictures and memories and a thousand unspoken lessons on what it is to be a man. But I’ll never hear him laugh again at one of my smart-ass remarks. I’ll never again hear him call me Buddy – his private nickname for me, one that no one else used. I’ll never have my Dad again.
And I’ll always carry him with me.
A postscript: My mother died two months after my father. My sister Penny and I scattered their ashes in Florida, at a location they both loved.
The State of Columbia. No, I'm not talking about the South American country (which is Colombia, anyway, and they're really picky about the spelling). I'm talking about that little patch of land which used to be made up of part of Maryland and part of Virginia. You know, the one where all those government buildings are located, and all those monuments and stuff, and the Smithsonian. That one.
Well, if you live there, you get screwed by the feds, and in the same way that the 13 colonies were being screwed by George III all those centuries ago. They get taxed at the federal level, but they don't have voting representation in either house of Congress. Taxation without representation -- sound familiar?
Now, many have said that it would be only fair to make the District of Columbia a state, giving its residents voting Representatives and Senators. It does sound fair, and I'd be all in favor of it -- with just one little string attached.
Remember up top where I said that the D of C used to be made up of part of Maryland and part of Virginia? Well, back in the 1840's, Virginia got their piece given back to them by Congress. Now that's all mixed up with the slavery debates of the time, and I'm not going to go into the details here. Suffice it to say, the part that Virginia gave was given back.
But the part that Maryland gave? That's what's known as the D of C today.
I'm sure that Maryland's a very nice state. I've only ever stayed there four times, and all of those were spent in and around Baltimore. And I've seen the Chesapeake Bay while driving south to other destinations, and it's a magnificent body of water. But Maryland's the only state that has lost every court case involving land that it laid claim to. That's why, when you look at it on a map, it's got that funny piece out west, and that peninsula in the east has its bottom part chopped off and given to Virginia.
And there's all that land they gave to make the D of C way back when. In fact, they gave 69 square miles while Virginia only gave 31. Screwed again, land-wise.
So what I say is this: Let the District of Columbia become the state of Columbia. Let its citizens have the right to be represented fully in Congress.
And let it happen the minute Virginia gives its 31 square miles of land back. That means that all of Arlington county, including the city of Alexandria and Arlington National Cemetery and Reagan Airport, becomes part of the new state.
Columbia should be restored to its original size and shape before it becomes a state. It's only fair.
Well, if you live there, you get screwed by the feds, and in the same way that the 13 colonies were being screwed by George III all those centuries ago. They get taxed at the federal level, but they don't have voting representation in either house of Congress. Taxation without representation -- sound familiar?
Now, many have said that it would be only fair to make the District of Columbia a state, giving its residents voting Representatives and Senators. It does sound fair, and I'd be all in favor of it -- with just one little string attached.
Remember up top where I said that the D of C used to be made up of part of Maryland and part of Virginia? Well, back in the 1840's, Virginia got their piece given back to them by Congress. Now that's all mixed up with the slavery debates of the time, and I'm not going to go into the details here. Suffice it to say, the part that Virginia gave was given back.
But the part that Maryland gave? That's what's known as the D of C today.
I'm sure that Maryland's a very nice state. I've only ever stayed there four times, and all of those were spent in and around Baltimore. And I've seen the Chesapeake Bay while driving south to other destinations, and it's a magnificent body of water. But Maryland's the only state that has lost every court case involving land that it laid claim to. That's why, when you look at it on a map, it's got that funny piece out west, and that peninsula in the east has its bottom part chopped off and given to Virginia.
And there's all that land they gave to make the D of C way back when. In fact, they gave 69 square miles while Virginia only gave 31. Screwed again, land-wise.
So what I say is this: Let the District of Columbia become the state of Columbia. Let its citizens have the right to be represented fully in Congress.
And let it happen the minute Virginia gives its 31 square miles of land back. That means that all of Arlington county, including the city of Alexandria and Arlington National Cemetery and Reagan Airport, becomes part of the new state.
Columbia should be restored to its original size and shape before it becomes a state. It's only fair.
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