The Gist of my Sis and the Sad of my Dad

    My grandma recently 'voluntarily' decided to stop driving and my dad is batting around several ideas for what to do with her car. His front-running option is to put enough money into it to make it run and pass inspection, and promise it to my sister when she gets her license. All well and good, until you realize that my sister is 24 and has resisted my father's driving instruction for six years. I'm two years younger than my sister, and I've had my licence for almost three years now. I bought my own car which I'm still making on-time payments for. I learned to drive primarily by myself, and with help from my wife and her aunt, and a bit from my parents. My dad, by the way, was usually too tired from arguing with my sister teaching her to drive that he didn't have much time to teach me. I've beaten around to bush in many conversations with my dad, so here I'm going to be blunt. My dad is spoiling my 24 year old sister.
    It's especially infuriating for me, because in my opinion he did a very good job raising me. I have an accurate moral compass, and I have good decision-making skills which is really what the goal of parenting should be. My sister is lazy, frightfully irresponsible, and her conscience isn't strong enough to combat peer pressure or the power of suggestion. To boot, she is utterly convinced of her own superiority. When she was younger, she struggled with simple math problems; she would finish one, move on to the next, and already have forgotten how to get the solution. My father got so frustrated trying to help her he would sit next to her telling her that she knew how to get the answer, and she still struggled. Somehow she now believes she her opinions are always right, and traditionally, she is usually wrong. She is covetous, and will frequently use or consume something belonging to others, and this likewise stems from their past interactions. More times than I can count, I was made to share a portion of my meal at a restaurant with my sister because she asked my dad and he instructed me to give up a bite. No wonder she doesn't respect the thoughts and feelings of others.
    Sorry to laden this post with a huge sob story at my sister's expense, but I see the underlying issues they seem to refuse to address. My dad and I have had several conversations about my sister, and his frustrations with her. He told me how powerless he felt, that with her being 24 years old he has no leverage with her. His leverage lies in all the MANY MANY things she asks for that he provides her with including food, items and cold, hard cash as well as the things he voluntarily gives her, like the car. It's quite simple: either she is independant of her father, or dependant on him and everything that implies. If my dad wants to keep appeasing her with money, then she is dependant and he has absolute claim to any rules he tries to enforce. If she is independant, she can ignore any rules she pleases, but she has no right to anything from her father, be it money, assistance or even shelter in the house she's made no indiciation of ever moving out of. Dad, if you want to motivate my sister to drive, then stop giving her rides everywhere. Make her walk or take the bus. That's fucking motivation. That is allowing her to fail and learn from her mistake instead of living life with the bumpers up, with daddy protecting his little girl from the slightest possibility of experiencing failure or negative emotions. Dad, you need to be OK with lettering her fail, and more than that, letting her know when she is full of shit. I always was charged with reigning my friends in from making fun of her. Maybe if we hadn't been so restrained, she would have a more accurate outlook on who and what exactly she is. Instead if her current delusions where she can do no wrong, reinforced by her father.

Imagine ALL the People

    Happy 2012 all! For those of you who saw the ball drop last night, do you remember Cee Lo Green singing "Imagine" by John Lennon? Not too bad a rendition if I do say so. I was admittedly apprehensive when I saw who was singing, but the soulful version Mr. Green brought to New York wasn't bad. He did catch some flack for changing the lyrics, saying "all religion true" instead of Lennon's original "no religion too" but these are the times when we must seek mass appeal (but that's another blog entry). What pissed me off about the ceremony was the attire of Cee Lo in context.
    If you were paying attention, you would have seen the singer in a black fur coat decked out in gold accessories. Which is fine for a artist trying to appeal to urban listeners, but "Imagine" is what he's there to sing! Does he have any idea what the song is about? It really struck me when he sang the line "imagine no possessions/I wonder if you can." ...Well I know someone who can't imagine 'no possessions.' Any meaningfulness that might've been brought to the song was obliterated by the blatant opulence.
    In all honesty, I don't begrudge Cee Lo Green for having money or nice things. Just recognize and respect the message of the song you're singing for Christ's sake. The outfit would've been fine if the song was his classic "Fuck You," but not for an idyllic utopian song about how humanity as a whole could come together and share the world as equals. All I'm saying is that some people are dreamers, and some people are paid to pretend to be dreamers; I don't think Lennon would've counted Cee Lo Green among dreamers with which to join. Certainly not based on the evidence presented.

Not Talkin' About The Football Team

    Understanding has great potential to prevent conflict. Frustratingly enough, one catalyst of conflict I've witnessed stems from the misunderstanding of one word: Patriot. Patriotism is a strongly emotional word, but it's flung around far too much. Admittedly the height of paranoia in the wake of 9/11 has subsided, but the abuse of the word is still a go-to method of attack for two kinds of people: idiots, and those who intend to control us.
    Patriotism is defined as devoted love, support and defense of one's country. Too many individuals become so blinded by that love, however, and feel that to support one's country one must follow whatever we are told without question. The simple act of calling elected officials and lawmakers into question can draw accusation that you do not support the entire country, which is unquestionably fallacious. Unfortunately this kind of catastrophizing is very popular, and draws a great deal of public support. And why not? who wants to appear unpatriotic, especially in the middle of a crowd? Cries of who is or isn't patriotic is used to great effect to control many kinds of people, and it's comical.
    I love my country, I am thankful for everything my country provides for me. However, to claim there are no problems, that nothing needs fixing, is bluntly delusion. I would probably come under fire, and be labeled among the "Blame America First" group, of which I believe is a gross oversimplification. However, if I am looking for flaws in America, and finding them, I have two options: leave the country, or try to fix it. If I'm trying to fix it, then it's because I believe the problem can be fixed and the change would benefit the whole country. Change is not bad, and it is illogical to assume that a desire for change implies a hatred of the the entire nation. I can hate one aspect and still love the whole. From the lyrics of Immortal Technique, "I love the place I live, but I hate the people in charge" and as the graffiti says on the 590/490 can-of-worms "You can't spell 'Patriot' without 'Riot.' As I keep coming back to, think for yourself.

Have Yourself A Merry Little One

    I hope all your Christmases and Hanukkahs were and are enjoyable! Welcome back, let's dive right in to what pissed me off this Christmas. Your first question is probably why I'm talking about Christmas when I've made no secret of my Jewish descent. I subscribe to whatever religious practices I want without the label. I like celebrating Christmas, so y'all can deal. Now, I'm sure you're now wondering what could possibly have pissed me off about such a happy time, and the offending party is closer than you or I might think. Family. You can't choose 'em, and you can't choose to ignore 'em.
    My wife and I made a last minute decree to not leave the house at all on Christmas. With the presents forgone, we decided to respond to her grandmother's guilt-ridden phone message asking us to Christmas dinner with her by ignoring her. In a stroke of honesty, we told my parents of this, and they immediately began in with the shame to goad us into dinner with them and my grandmother. "Or at least you could come down and talk with her for a while." My grandmother, by the by, was coming to my parents house for a traditional Hanukkah dinner scheduled for Christmas day.
    I rapidly grew weary in life, of the phrase "well it's family" or "well he's family" or "she's family" as if that is all I should need to go against my better judgement and my personal preferences. Throughout life the only family member I ever chose was my wife. Other than that, I'm stucm with and emberassing hodgepodge of people I don't see eye-to-eye with and who disapprove of me. Why should I sacrifice so much for a person who thinks so little of me? The moral of the story is that for coming down and chatting with my grandma, she gave us a Hanukkah card with $25 in it. That translates to each of us getting paid $12.50 for 45 minutes of awkward, pointless conversation in which both sides speak but not about each other. In my opinion, not worth it. Keep the card and the money. I'd rather have spent the time the way I wanted, with only my chosen family.

Still Kickin' Myself

    I personally sling a lot of mud, however I definitely don't have all the answers out there. I suppose, therefore, it's fair for me to share some stuff that makes me angry about myself and not just the world around me. I get struck speechless very easily. It frustrates me to no end how difficult it can be for me to find the words for situations, especially when for something that really matters to me. I'd like to share an experience of which the memory still pisses me off, as this is, in fact, a blog about things that piss me off (as I warned in my intro).
    In May of this year I took a trip to Los Angeles, as I have plans to move there as soon as it's feasible to pursue comedy. My wife and I visited a comedy club to scout out an open mic show, and this was my first time ever inside a comedy club, period. We decided it was getting late, and we headed to the counter to pay for our drinks, I handed the waitress my card, and she walked away to do the transaction. I did two double takes over toward the wall, where two guys were talking, because I thought I recognized him. It turned out to be Bobby Lee (who I know from Mad TV and Harold and Kumar), and I know he saw me do a double take, so I said "Hey are you.... .... ..." and I could not remember his name! If he had pulled out a gun and aimed it at my wife and said he'd shoot her if I couldn't remember I would be a widower right now. And what's worse is he helped me, too. He ackowledged that he was someone famous who might be recognized, and even said "Bobby........Bobby Lee" while I stammered how I couldn't remember and how I felt like an asshole. Then we just stood there for five of the most awkward minutes of my life waiting for my card to come back.
    Bobby wasn't even mean about it. He certainly couldv'e actively made me feel worse. I still stew about it from time to time though, wishing I could have remembered any part of his name. And it worries me going into stand-up comedy, I can't be at a loss for words ever onstage. I'm sure it'll happen though, at least once I won't be able to find my wording in front of an audience, it's destined. Just gonna keep on keepin' on and jump off that bridge when I come to it!