Thursday, May 31, 2012
I saw this title today in an email from Monster.com. Not that I'm looking. ;-)
I didn't read it. I decided to write my own. Really, it could be a gazillion things to never say...
Nine Things Never to Say in a Job Interview
1. What's your policy on masturbation?
2. Define "inappropriate".
3. Shouldn't you ask if I have ever been convicted fairly?
4. Do you have cameras in all the elevators?
5. In five years? I've never lasted anywhere more than three. You gonna finish that muffin?
6. I'm all about diversity. Like that Dutch chick in HR. Is she single...ish?
7. What's the maximum weight limit for that Minolta copier?
8. Are pants mandatory?
9. This is boring. Go Fuck Yourself.
Please fill the comments with yours! Like "Have you ever heard yourself talk? Wow. Good thing you're hot. Am I right?"
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
You see them everywhere. "Choose Civility" bumper stickers in Howard County, the county of my residence in the state of Maryland.
I could explain that "Choose Civility is an ongoing community-wide initiative, led by the Howard County Library System, to position Howard County as a model of civility. But I choose to let the fine folks explain that here.
I'm all for civility, and community initiatives, and definitely the Howard County Library. I've even blogged about this topic before, when someone stole my Choose Civility magnet here.
But what kills me are all the copies of this simple design, and all the sarcasm. Which, honestly, shouldn't surprise anyone in this era of perpetual cynicism.
Choose Senility, Choose Insanity, Embrace Hostility. Oh, I don't mind any of them. I just feel bad that it took me so long to finally join in. Here are mine:
Sunday, April 15, 2012
As you can see, I haven't posted much at all lately. I told my friend Jessie the other night I haven't had anything to really say.
On Saturday, I joined the Six:Eight Community Church in a cleanup at the Mill Run stream. This was part of Project Clean Stream, a citywide stream cleanup event organized by Blue Water Baltimore.
When we headed out to the area around the Woodberry Light Rail station, I joked with my friend Heather, who recruited me, "This should be a breeze since we already cleaned up the trash here last October." But alas, (did I just say 'alas'?), there was plenty of fresh trash to be picked up. The bulk is cigarette butts, and carelessly discarded food wrappers (especially candy), fast food cups, bottles, cans, cigarette foil (smokers know what I'm talking about), Light Rail passes and then stuff only found in Bizarro world like a police record for a 33-year-old man wanted on four counts of murder, and something Oriole fans will appreciate in the center of this bag:
We pick up all of this trash because it's a) ugly, b) unnecessary and c) eventually ends up in the Mill Run stream, into the Jones Falls, onto the Chesapeake Bay.
But yesterday was not a day of judgment. It was a community event requiring only three hours of my time, and it felt good. I had plenty of excuses in the docket of Mike's busy life on why I didn't need to schlep from Ellicott City to Baltimore on a beautiful Saturday morning, but I squelched them all.
What I didn't expect, yet should not have been surprised by, was what we found under the bridge pictured at the top. Loose change. Foam stuffing. A blanket. Someone's home.
There were piles of ashes from paper, clothing and trash obviously burned for warmth. Even in spring, it's cold at night. And there were books, stacked neatly in a mini library. They're fuel alright, but not for an evening fire. And a cable box: ironic, hopeful, perhaps just a possession that feels valuable.
This hit me much harder than I expected. I see homeless people every day. Sometimes I make eye contact, sometimes I drop some change, often I walk on like they're not even there.
At first, I was really angry. I kept thinking about the tirades about gas prices, the economy, who should be in office, who shouldn't be in office, taxes, and how Facebook has become the soapbox for so many...so many opinionated, uninformed, and often nasty people. NONE of us are sleeping here, living like this. And ANY of us, or members of our own family, could be.
Addiction, mental illness, depression - all of us are somehow affected by these personally, some so more deeply than others.
Then I got really sad. A fucking human being lives under this bridge. Suffering. Living an existence I cannot imagine. How dare I complain about $4 a gallon to get my pampered ass to and from my work and home every day.
Then I got real. This tragic situation is not unique. It is everywhere. And guess what? It isn't about me.
I can't fix it today, but I can write about it. Remind myself, and my friends on Facebook, and the wonderful people who take the time to read this post, that the homeless are human. They should not be ignored, forgotten or judged.
I am incredibly thankful. For the wonderful people in my life, the opportunities showered upon me every single day. The blessings I truly enjoy and have the perspective to appreciate. And, hey, after all these months, I having something to say.
I'm not going to turn this blog into a pulpit, or abandon the humor. Humor is truth and a medicine for all.
The writer in me was reawakened. I'm humbled and grateful for a place to be able to breathe, think, eat, sleep, share and love.
Your comments are always welcome. Especially your perspective.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
I'm surprised Google hasn't sued me for neglect. Amazon has threatened to pull my blog from their Kindle service - my apologies to my one reader, Bryan. You deserve better than four posts a year.
I refuse to have a blog that just sits there collecting dust like my Galoob Star Wars micro machines still-in-package ACTION FIGURE set - who needs the stock market?
I have so much to say but have had trouble articulating the...words...on paper or screen. But I shall return. Soon!
Thank you for your patience. Please feel free to peruse the other 450 million active English-language blogs whilst you wait.