Drama Major

Nothing but drama. Drama, drama, drama. Like the list of "Best Picture" Oscar winners. Drama, drama, drama, comedy, drama, drama, drama, and more drama.

Blog posts have gotten harder to write because everything I post starts another round of drama. I already lost one friend to this blog, and last week I found a section of one of my posts taken out of context to make me out to be a jerk.

I've been debating whether or not to respond. I had decided to, then I decided not to. It's a real dilemma. There is a part of me that thinks if they want to take things so personally and turn everything into a visceral, vitriolic battle, then to hell with them. But there's another part of me that wants to keep things peaceful and civil.

There's an old bit of wisdom that says "to thine own self be true." There's another that says "blessed are the peace-makers." Those things seem to be in direct contrast to each other.

That being said... a few clarifying comments. When a comment in this blog is labeled "This comment has been deleted by the author" that means the comment was deleted by the author of the COMMENT, not the author of the blog. I have not yet deleted anyone's comments other than my own. Even the absolutely idiotic ones. I'm not one of those people who tries to sanitize everything to put myself in the best light, and in SOME instances, I've decided it's best just to leave the comments up because it makes the author of the comment look like an idiot, when they're trying to make me look that way. If you want to write your own punishment, I'll be more than glad to leave it for others to see.

In regards to the "Open Letter:"

Sarcasm:

noun

[mass noun]

• the use of irony to mock or convey contempt:she didn't like the note of sarcasm in his voice

(courtesy of the Oxford English Dictionary)

In regards to the "Battle of the Sexes:"

I have made my point abundantly clear numerous times within the post and the comments directly following the post. If you still wish to twist and misconstrue it, it's a matter of willful ignorance at that point.

Either way, I don't have time for the drama. I have too many LEGITIMATELY dramatic things going on in my life. I don't need any more created for me. If anyone wants to be offended by this, be my guest. Feel free to make your point below... or on your own blog... or wherever else you wish. But, frankly, I'm done caring. This is a place for me to write about things that matter to me, which is what I'm going to continue to do. I'm done with the debates and the drama. Drama queens are welcome to try the Lady MacBeth act elsewhere. I'm not taking auditions.

Blowing Smoke

I made a post last night, following a heated and protracted debate on smoking, during which I had lung cancer wished upon me and responded in an INCREDIBLY vitriolic way. I had kept it up until now, but after a concerned e-mail from a valued friend, I decided to remove it and simply post my thoughts on the issue at hand.

Firstly, I need to address the debate for those who read it. I began speaking of some statistics that I'll state later, following which the person in question wished that I would catch lung cancer. I responded by calling her something unsavory through several posts in a protracted debate. I should have been smart enough to not allow myself to be provoked into making myself look like an idiot. I'm not always the smartest person in the world. I have a short fuse and I don't suffer fools gladly. And, while I don't believe in astrology at all, I fit the textbook definition of a Libra, if someone does something unjust or evil, I'll pull out all the stops to call them out on it, even if my own actions in doing so are unjust or evil. It's wrong of me, and I genuinely regret it.

NOW, to the point at hand:

New York City is planning a vote on a bill to ban smoking in public OUTDOOR places. This is on top of an indoor ban several years ago, because of the alleged dangers of secondhand smoke.

The numbers on secondhand smoke are twisted, abused, and hyperinflated. One true claim is that exposure to secondhand smoke will increase your odds of catching lung cancer by 25%. This claim is 100% true. But what does it MEAN? It INCREASES the odds from 10 cases per 100,000 to 12.5 cases per 100,000. An increase of 2.5 per every 100,000 or 25 per million. That's an actual increase in population of 0.0025%. There's 300 million people in the United States. roughly 40% of us smoke (so we can't be included in secondhand smoke statistics), which leaves a base of 180 million. 25 in every million of those leaves 4,500 cases of secondhand smoke.

This is a tragic figure... but let's put it in perspective: 33,808 people died in 2009 as a result of drunk driving. In 2007, the most recent year I could find figures, handgun violence killed 12, 632 people.

Now, here's the real kicker. That 4,500 cases of lung cancer caused by secondhand smoke ISN'T EVEN AN ANNUAL FIGURE. That's the number of people who, at some point in their life, will develop lung cancer. To get an annual figure, I've divided that 4500 by the average life expectancy of 74 years, and I come up with 60.8108(and a long string of decimal places) instances per year. FEWER THAN 61 instances a year. For this, 120 million smokers in this country are having people wish death upon them, and their right to enjoy their vice eroded.

My question to the anti-smoking establishment is this: What are you doing about the REAL dangers in life? Are you so uppity about alcohol? How about fried foods? Handguns? Domestic violence? Trichinosis? ANY of the other thousand things more harmful than secondhand smoke?

This is America. You have the right to not like smoke... and I have the right not to care. What you do NOT have the right to do is to create an entirely fictitious hazard to public health and use it to ban those vices that are different than your vices.

There are those who argue that the NYC bill doesn't ban smoking or tobacco. The city enacted an indoor smoking ban years ago. While I don't entirely agree with indoor smoking bans, I can understand them. Certainly when there are people indoors with allergies and asthma who can be affected even if they don't count among the lung cancer statistics. Now the city is attempting to ban smoking OUTdoors, where the smoke dissipates quickly in the open air and is blown away on the breeze. So, it's true, they're not banning tobacco. That would be un-American... but when you ban someone from smoking indoors or outdoors, it really has the same effect. I suppose, if you can find one, you'd be free to light up in an underwater cave in NYC.

If you want to ban smoking for the presumed (and non-existent) dangers of secondhand smoke, you need to ban all of the other activities and substances that take more than 61 lives per year. If you do anything less, you're a hypocrite. You're banning this substance because you don't like it, rather than because of any legitimate danger to the public.

Feedback always welcome.

A POW in the Battle of the Sexes

It's 1:40 in the morning, and I'm finding it impossible to sleep. I was going to write this tomorrow with a clear head... but Sudoku and old radio shows on the MP3 player aren't doing their usual tricks. I have too much on my mind. Maybe writing tomorrow's blog will help me to relax.

It seems that the age-old "battle of the sexes" has escalated into a full-blown war lately.

This morning, there was a message in my inbox from my most recent ex. She had blogged about a fight we had months ago, and her struggle with compromise. It was not vitriolic, it didn't set me off or even upset me. What DID upset me was that the last time I had reached out to this particular ex, a short note to wish her and her family a merry Christmas, I was harshly rebuffed for adding undue stress to her while she was preparing for finals. I shrugged, muttered something about a horse she rode in on, and went on with my life.

In discussing this with another friend, it evolved into our ongoing discussion of the battle between the sexes. In the past several months, from this friend and other women, I've heard so many generalized explanations of male behavior that I just don't fall into. It's hard to decide if this means that I'm just incredibly atypical or if women just have NO clue about men.

Possibly both.

Let me say, I fall into many stereotypes of men. I enjoy James Bond movies. Steak and sex would probably top my wish list most days. I would consider reading a Harlequin Romance novel to be a violation of my 8th amendment rights. And if professional Baseball or college basketball are in season it's quite possible that conversations with me will drift back to how the Salukis are playing or the strength of the Cardinals bullpen.

However, there are many that miss the mark COMPLETELY with me. I'm not "macho" by any stretch of the imagination. Outside of Bond movies, I really could care less for the entire "action" genre. And most years, I have far more interest in the commercials and halftime show than the actual Super Bowl itself.

A friend of mine has developed the "Microwave/Crock Pot" theory of gender relations. "Men are microwaves, women are crock-pots." By this she means that men look at a women and instantly pass judgement on a purely physical impression, while women take the time to contemplate men before making a final decision. Perhaps it's just me, but I find the whole theory simplistic and more-than-slightly offensive. Maybe a cerebral man is also against stereotype, but I've come to the conclusion that further analysis is always in order before a final decision is made.

I've met women who I found to be absolutely BEAUTIFUL, and was bitterly disappointed to find later that they were entirely a waste of my time. On the flip side of the coin, I've known several women (as friends and romantically) who I was rather indifferent about at first that grew on me over time.

One of my dearest friends is a punk/goth half-Blackfoot girl I worked with once. Ordinarily, on first impressions, I wouldn't strike up a conversation on the initial assumption that we would have nothing to talk about. One day, with my MP3 player on and my nose stuck in a book, she decided that she'd try to bring "stand-offish" me "out of my shell." She was funny and interesting and far more into The Who and The Stones than Marilyn Manson. We quickly became inseparable friends.

I know of several women who complain about how hard women have to try for men. That they have to get "dolled up" and make themselves look great for men because this is what we're going to judge them on. I won't pass judgement on this. I'm sure there's some truth to it. I also know what MEN go through on account of women. Men can throw themselves at women, doing everything short of begging while women pull out a checklist only three pages slimmer than the Manhattan phone directory, looking for a reason to disqualify us (BTW, for the idiots out there, I meant Manhattan, NYC, and not Manhattan, KS).

Finally, quite frankly, I'm getting really damn tired of apologizing for every inequality perpetuated by my gender. The friend I was debating with today shared a YouTube clip about how men start the wars and are, in essence, responsible for most of the evils in the world. The same friend mentioned the fact that for every dollar a man earns, a woman earns 76 cents.

It's a cogent sociological point, but on an interpersonal scale the argument falls apart. I sincerely doubt that any woman reading this is now, or has ever been, with a man who was PERSONALLY responsible for any crimes against humanity. I know, on a personal level, I've committed none. I'm really tired of being equated with Genghis Kahn, Adolf Hitler, and Justin Bieber simply based on the fact that we all have the same kind of genitalia. Men don't equate all women with Lucrezia Borgia, Eva Braun, and Lorena Bobbit.

The whole war is asinine and juvenile, and I'm bowing out. I elect to judge a person based on THAT person. Not based on other people of the same gender who have enslaved people, broken my heart, or kicked my dog.

All I ask is the same common courtesy.

An Open Letter to an Inconsiderate Neighbor

Dear Asshole,

The proper way to warm up an engine and de-ice a vehicle is to go out a half-hour to 45 minutes before you need to leave, start the engine, and leave it idling while you go inside and finish a cup of coffee.

The IMproper way to warm an engine and de-ice a vehicle is to go out at 4:30 in the morning, start the engine, and stand on the accelerator, get out and leave your engine idling while you whack the shit out of every flat surface on your vehicle with an ice scraper, then get back in and stand on the accelerator again -- waking your neighbors, their out-of-state relatives, and perhaps even Helen Keller in the process. I sincerely doubt that Satan himself could be such a douche.

The lingering frustration from this petty annoyance is compounded when you give up, presumably frustrated because you don't know how to properly warm an engine and de-ice a car, shut your car off, and then come out at 5:15 and do the SAME DAMN THING!

If there were some way to tell from the warmth of my nice, comfortable bed which neighbor you are and which vehicle was yours it would have been quite possible for you to find a .22 short through at least one tire and perhaps even yourself.

It is now 6:00AM, and down the block I hear a neighbor gently, quietly scraping away at the ice with an ice scraper (and a gently idling engine). Perhaps you could learn something from this neighbor. Or, if you're interested in stopping by my house, I could gladly teach you the proper method. Following, of course, a punch in the face and a boot to the genitalia.

Sunset Lake, Otter Lake, Carlinville Lake, Lake Springfield, and Lake Lou Yeager are all available for you to go jump in. Please do so before Thursday, when the ice will thicken to the point where it will support your weight.

Sincerely,

A formerly friendly neighbor.