Chick-Fil-A-Holes, or Some Fowl Thinking...

I've long been disappointed by Chick-Fil-A's stance on Sunday. It's a day of rest, a day to worship, blah blah blah. I'm a Jew. And I feel slightly discriminated against. Of course, I'm pretty much agnostic. So I respect CFA's position. Good for them not having their employees work, or raking in all that weekend cash.

Bully for them!

So it doesn't surprise me AT ALL that Mr Cathy believes marriage should be between a man and a woman. It wasn't until a few months ago that our president said he believed any different. Of course, our president is a politician.

Right? Remember all that?

So when Mr Cathy said out loud, "Guilty as charged," he got crucified - pun intended. I got swept up in it, too.

How dare he be so unenlightened! How dare he not respect all walks of life? Who is he to say who should marry whom?

Etc...

But then I thought about it. And I changed positions.

All Cathy did was exercise his freedom of speech. I LOVE freedom of speech. I fucking love it. You can say what you want to say in this country. You can love who you want to love (issue notwithstanding), and you can hate who you want to hate.

The bible, apparently, has led Cathy to believe in a man/woman union. That doesn't make him a bad person. I believe differently. That doesn't make me a better person. But what makes Cathy 'less than good' is what he does with his money.

That said (and linked above), not everyone in the roost feels the same way, and there is plenty that CFA does for its communities concerning blood drives, giving food to the homeless, etc - which is ultimately GOOD.

And besides, doesn't Nike and the Gap own slaves in Asia or something? I mean, not everyone can be Ben & Jerry's or Patagonia.

Bam! Cluck off, mothercluckers!

So thinking again, I was back to eating at CFA. [Full disclosure: I eat at CFA maybe 3 times a year.] I wasn't going to be 'cowed' into not eating it. After all, being politically correct is not without its creepiness and groupthink as well. I mean, I don't pledge allegiance to a fucking chicken sandwich. And I don't want to have to choose between red foods and blue foods every time I leave my house. Also, my ignorance on how they raise and slaughter their chickens is sweet breaded bliss. (Sigh...)

But then I read this on a friend's FB post:

I have a hard time seeing the issue of equality as just one of those things people can disagree on, like it was the same as an opinion about a television program or a consumer product. Because it's not. It's people's lives and happiness. I'm glad that you have gay friends you feel close to. But if you don't support their right to be married, it's a little like having black friends but supporting Jim Crow laws. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but I think it's an apt analogy.

Damn, he's right. Same sex marriage isn't Coke Zero vs Diet Coke. A soft drink is a soft drink. Equal is equal.

Ok, but what about the slippery slope of plural marriage?

Well, let's not go there yet. Let's get this one out of the gate first.

So thinking yet again - I was now back to NOT eating at CFA...

Snap!

Ultimately, this isn't about chicken sandwiches. It's about politics, religion, and sexual identity; which, if these were ingredients, would be a shit sub dripping in hate sauce and anger garnish.

Actual living/working politicians have suggested a ban on CFA. Whoa... Refusing to grant a permit to build a CFA because of what its COO personally believes is un-American. Period. That's not how we do it, people. No one wants the thought police.

(It upsets me to no end that I'm with Sarah Palin on this.)

Bottom line, I'm not eating CFA. Cathy's statement/position has ultimately left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm sure with enough time I will fill it again with snow white breaded chicken breasts, waffle fries, and sweet tea. But for right now, I'm giving Cathy a timeout.

You think about what you said, sir. You think about it long and hard.

[Fullest disclosure: my wife LOVES CFA. Years ago on our way to a wedding dinner in Dallas, we stopped for a chicken sandwich. True story. I've had them. They're delicious. Also, I have found that every CFA I've ever been to has been clean and friendly. Every. One. It's always been a good fast food experience.]

Traveling this weekend, my wife (knowing we weren't going to stop at CFA) asked, "Should we stop at Culvers?"

"I don't know," I said. "What's their position on abortion and stem cell research?"





PS. Really, what about what CFA does to the diabetic and obese? That's the crime! How are the round and rotund supposed resist all that's tender, juicy, and breaded?

Annnnd now we're on to universal health care, which is a whole other can of deep fried worms.

#Olympics

So I've been sort of half watching the Olympics.

No, that's not it. I have no idea what's going on.

The social media and news outlets combined with the universal broadcasting rights in the Venn diagram of Greenwich Mean Time have me all confused.

That is, my phone and internet tell me things as they happen, and then my TV tells me in widescreen HD glory half a day later. My Olympic experience is a micromoment of factual joy sans nail-biting thrill, like a suspended automatic nostalgia.

Let's start with the opening ceremonies? They piped in 'sulphur smell' for the part about the industrial revolution? Whuh? Seriously? And then... what... was... everything?

Is that a shire? Are they now removing sod? Is Kenneth Branagh the ghost of Olympics past? Ok, now there's dancing, texting, and status updates... Wait, what's happening? Who's the girl with the big hair? That's the guy who invented the internet - not Robert Cailliau and Vinton Cerf? Beckham as Bond? Bond and the Queen skydiving? Ok, that was kinda cool, but corny - props to the queen, though. But Mr Bean gets a whole 'Chariots of Fire' bit? Is that Vodlemort? WHAT... IS... GOING... ON?

Just give us amazing fireworks and Paul McCartney. Otherwise China kicked everyone's ass from 2008.

All I know is that I'm vaguely disappointed Michael Phelps didn't win a gold medal in EVERYTHING he swam. (Yes, sure, he's the most decorated Olympic athlete in history, but I just wanted more. Didn't we all?) And NBC seems to be all over the place, but not in a good way.

Also, the woman's* gymnastics team makes me feel inadequate; like I'm some sort of soft fat un-limber man. Yet, somehow I feel superior in how I choose to wear my hair (or lack thereof). The gymnasts' hair is pulled back and staple gunned SO FREAKING TIGHT, they are unable to blink. But maybe that's the secret to their balance beam success.

Lastly, beyond gymnastics, aren't we all sort of checking for Olympic cameltoes and wedgies during beach volleyball and diving? No? Just me?

(Hmmm, I think that last part was out loud. Ooops.)

And when did wearing bras on the outside become a thing? Or is that just Australia?

Speaking of Australia. Two words; Michelle Jenneke.

Ok, back to your regular scheduled programming.

USA! USA!

PS. NBC, what are you doing? Seriously?

* At the risk of sounding like a cranky old man, the women's gymnastics team is really a girl's gymnastic team. There is only one who is 18. Totally get that youth is unappreciated/uncelebrated in this country and that greatness knows no age, but shouldn't there be a 'tween Olympics or something? Because it seems unfair to train balls out as a kid and lose parts of your childhood. And that as a college freshman you are considered over the hill. Ok, soapbox removed. Have a nice day!

Dark Knight Rises Blah Blah Blah

Do not read this. There are spoilers and I am spoiling the whole thing. I am not being snowed by hype and hoopla of how AWESOME 'Dark Knight' is.

Go ahead, click back to where you came...

I'll wait.

Ok.

Yes, it's cool looking. The effects are amazing. Bain's mask is neat. Catwoman is hot. And how about that Bat-cycle?!

Bam! Pow! Zowie!

First let me say that I am NOT a comic book nerd. I have nothing against comic book nerds, I am just not one. I don't know when Batman was first published and what in society's timeline it was reflecting. I don't know Bruce Wayne's blood type or what his dad did for a living. I know the Joker, Riddler, and Penguin. Oh, and the Boy Wonder.

That's my disclaimer. I'm coming to this movie clean. Although, I have to say the last one was pretty good, but made great because of Heath Ledger. Stellar performance there. Stellar. Made Jack Nicholson look silly...

But let's move on. Let's start with Bane.

Who the fuck is Bane?

Bane?

Ok, ok, he's one of many villains who pop up from out of nowhere and into Gotham. Let's just accept that. Gotham, which seemed like it was Chicago, but now seems like New York, is all about costumed psychopaths. Fine.

Bane was apparently born in prison and then he studied under Ra's al Ghul - who all of sudden appears as a Qui-Gon Jinn vision in Bruce Wayne's prison cell... which is where exactly? Isn't it in some Southeast Asian desert? What world is this? This isn't 'Game of Thrones'.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

We start with a plane jacking. Cool. Very 007. Then we're introduced to Bruce Wayne as Howard Hughes. Catwoman makes her appearance. Miranda Tate is apparently someone. Then Bane and his thugs storm into the stock market, guns pop pop popping.

THIS SCENE IS TERRIFYING BECAUSE OF AURORA. And it makes me sort of sick to see the violence being celebrated here in the movie theater now where it was devastating in another theater just a few days ago.

#TooSoon.

The stock market scene, by the way, is also a bit too 'on the nose' for me. Yes, we all hate those fat cats on Wall Street.

Yup.

I get it.

We meet Blake - a cop who seems to know from his own orphan experience that Bruce Wayne is Batman. Well, ok then. Good detecting, detective. We also meet Foley - the chief of police who's character has a dimension of 1. (Really, Nolan brothers? That's all you have for Mathew Modine? Fine.)

Now Bane begins destroying Gotham by blasting the bridges and buildings, and burying the cops underground.

WHY?

Because Gotham is corrupt?

And... uh, what else?

No? That's it?

Ok.

The football field is destroyed as Heinz Ward runs for a touchdown. You've seen this in the trailer. Cool special effects. Nice! Bane then takes the microphone and addresses the crowd. He explains he's their great liberator and they should take back their city. 'Enjoy the spoils,' he says. The movie cuts to well dressed men being pulled out of their sports cars and women in fur coats being dragged out onto the sidewalk in front of their posh apartment buildings.

I have two issues.

A) Really? A lady in a fur coat? Why not some old guy in a top hat and tails?

Biff! Pow!

B) Bane is addressing people at a pro football game. This is the upper middle class. Tickets are at least $100 a pop. They're wearing $75 jerseys, eating $6 hot dogs, and drinking $8 beers. These people are NOT the oppressed demographic. The uprising is NOT starting at a pro-football game.

I mean the gridlock getting out of the parking lot alone - especially now that it's destroyed - is not going to help Bane's cause.

;-)

Ok, now Gotham sucks. It's like 1940s Poland. How is this helping, Bane? What is this proving? Corruption is now on a more base level. Also, to what end is this happening now that we know the bomb is going to destroy everything in 5 months anyway?

Fine, let's just accept it.

Bruce Wayne loses all his money. He starts a relationship with Miranda Tate. Really? Ok. Then Bane breaks Batman's back and takes him to the prison he grew up in, which again, is WHERE? Mordor? Fine. Batman heals, does his Rocky thing, and focuses his anger. (The thing about jumping without the rope - that was a good bit.) Now Bruce Wayne shows up in Gotham - where NO ONE is allowed in or out - even though he is without costume and fancy devices. Fine. He hooks up with Catwoman and is able to get to all his fancy weaponry with Lucius Fox. Really? That stuff isn't locked up or guarded? Ok. Fine. Batman's also able to get to his fancy Batplane. No one was able to find it in the 5 months it's been sitting there on top of the building under mosquito netting? Really? Fine. So now there's a big fight between the thugs and the police who have come escaped from the tunnels.

Biff! Bam! Kapow!

**Big Ass Spoiler Coming Through!**

And NOW we learn Miranda Tate is actually Ra's al Ghul's daughter - the one who grew up in prison and escaped with the help of her protector Bane. And then Bane became her lover, but was banished from the League of Shadows by her father - whom she hated and couldn't ever forgive until Batman killed him.

Ah, now it all makes sense.

WHAT?!

Seriously?

#ConvolutedAsFuck

Nolan brothers, there's a difference between plot and story. I mean think about the story of 'Inception' because remember how-

Oh, right. Nevermind.

Now Catwoman comes back and saves the day. You go, girl! Then Batman chases down the bomb and flies it out over the bay - which maybe should have been Plan A from the get go.

Ka-BOOM!

So yes, it looks like Batman is dead, but we know he's in Italy with Catwoman. He has to be. She's too hot a piece of ass. So when I see this at the end, I imagine Ratboy and Gnatgirl - it just makes sense, and completes the rhyme scheme. But there's one more thing at the the very very end. Blake discovers the Bat Cave, and we discover his real name is Robin.

Bum bum bummmmm...

Blammo! Zoiks!

Onto the next franchise...

Furthur - Deadheads Walking, or Filthy Dirty Hippies

So I went to see Furthur the other evening. Yes, that's spelled correctly.

I've never done any research, but my guess is that the band is named after the Ken Kesey bus of the same name/spelling. Perhaps it's also a play at 'some great notion' that since the Grateful Dead cannot be the Grateful Dead without Jerry Garcia, the remaining members have decided to go 'further'.

However, not all the remaining members are in Furthur. Some are in other bands, some do their own thing. Again, this is un-googled, but Furthur is essentially Bob Weir, Phil Lesh and some younger musicians - one of whom I think was the drummer for Primus, and another who was the Jerry Garcia of a GD cover band - Dark Star Orchestra.

None of this means one thing or another, although it's interesting to note that Furthur is probably the most awesome cover band in the history of rock and roll... save for the two members who were actually in the actual band.

But what IS important is how the more things change, the more they stay the same.

In high school, the druggies were into Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Maybe the Doors and The Who as well. Sure, I had those names scrawled on my Trapper Keeper - along with Springsteen and Dylan. But the serious druggies were into the Grateful Dead. I did NOT listen to the Dead then. In my head I imagined they were like Iron Butterfly or Black Sabbath - something über heavy... I just couldn't go there.

But I started listening to the Dead in college. And I was SHOCKED to find it was country jugband music with some improvisation. Whuh?! Of course, once you get into it, you realize the lyrics are open to life-changing interpretation, and a 3 minute pop song played live can turn into a 45 minute magnum opus that goes in and out of several songs and then back to the original song so that when the line 'What a long strange trip it's been' resurfaces, it's MINDBLOWING.

Damn, that works on at least two levels...

I saw the Dead in the 80s and 90s. I've been to several shows. I once 'followed' them over a long weekend. But I am NOT a deadhead. I don't have that kind of commitment. Rather, I am committed to showering regularly and sleeping in a clean bed. But I appreciate the counter culture groove and the unintended irony of being anti-establishment in a sea of tie-dyes and dreadlocks.

The other evening, my friends and I went to Charter One Pavilion to see/hear Furthur. There are always two shows; the one that happens outside the venue and the one that happens inside. Both are entertaining in their own ways. I remember a Dead show in Milwaukee we didn't have tickets for. We just wandered around the parking lot all night. It was awesome.

Shakedown Street is a song AND a mall. Specifically, aside from also being a song, it's the string of tents in the parking lot that sell t-shirts, glass pipes, beads, and vegan burritos. It's where all walks of life walk; a parade of pasta rasta dreads in guatemalan pajamas. Here the whites of people's eyes are red, the older the tie-dye the more authentic, and the air is thick with pot, patchouli, and BO. It's a freak show. I love it.

Walking around Northerly Island before the show, I was struck by how young a lot of the fans are. They're kids, late teens/early 20s. I felt old. But to put it another way, Phil Lesh is 72. I believe that's a generation, right? It's like being a year or two in college and going to see a band whose members are your grandparents age.

Sure, these kids were tripping out of their skulls and wearing their fun freak clothes, but it seemed it was more than just a summer fling before hitting the books in the Fall. They were full on filthy dirty hippies; deadheads walking. If you've tattooed the lyrics of Sugar Magnolia on your ribcage, you're probably in it for the long haul. You believe.

But the walking dead also included people who were at the actual acid tests 50+ years ago as well. Well, maybe not the actual acid tests, but they could have been. There were at least that old. They were of that era.

e·ra (îr, r)
n.
1. A period of time as reckoned from a specific date serving as the basis of its chronological system.
2.
a. A period of time characterized by particular circumstances, events, or personages: the Colonial era of U.S. history; the Reagan era.
b. A point that marks the beginning of such a period of time. See Synonyms at period.
3. The longest division of geologic time, made up of one or more periods.

It's fascinating to see this demographic of the time/space continuum play out. Almost as much as the band itself play out. I've long believed members of the Grateful Dead are merely vessels for the music. There is no, "Hello, Cleveland!" or, "How's it going tonight?' Nothing. They do not talk. They just stand and play, let the music do the talking. Maybe they sway every now and then, but that's it. If they show any emotion, the crowd goes insane.

"BOBBY! BOBBY! PHILLLLLL! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

But here's the bottom line. The band rocks. The band is really truly awesome. Yes, you have to like that kind of music. You have to appreciate all the noodling and solos. But the historical significance of the band/music is HUGE. That is undeniable. If you consider the 60's counterculture revolution as axis points, Bob and Phil were right at X and Y. Or Haight and Ashbury if you will. They KNEW Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady. They KNEW Allen Ginsberg. They were ON the bus WITH Ken Kesey. They are friends with Bob Dylan.

Which brings us back to Furthur. The show outside was great. The show inside was great. And I forgot about the other show; the one that happens right in front of you wherever you are. We had front row right behind the VIP section and the VIP box right in front of us was empty. The theater we were witness was awesome. Soooo many 'heads sat in those seats only to be kicked out by the petite Northwestern coed with the walkie talking and green back pack. Almost every one of them took out their actual ticket which clearly showed they were not where they were supposed to be. Dudes, really? It's bad enough she's trapped in a drug addled time warp.

But credit to this woman, she was good. Very earnest, polite. Kudos to her. Although the last fifteen minutes of the show I think she could have let it go a little. Whoever was supposed to show was not going to show now. It's not a crime to sit where you're not supposed to sit. It's not against the law. C'mon, just be cool...

All in all, we had a good time. The band was in good form. I preferred the second set to the first. I thought 'All Along the Watchtower' was awesome. As well as 'Morning Dew'. Getting home was a bit of a challenge, though. Rather, it was a long hot walk.

And somehow we were able to find a pile of buffalo wings at the end of the night. AWESOME!

PS. I had elote as my halftime theater snack. As the band launched into "Feel Like a Stranger' my boys leaned in and were all like, 'Uh, dude, what are you eating?"

"Elote."

"What's elote?"

"Just corn, man. You want some?"

"Uh, no. Wait, what is it?"

Classic.

Facebook Rules

(Disclaimer: There are no rules. These are MY rules. Take them, leave them.)

Accept timeline. Don't be such a scardy pants. This is your life. Own it.

Of ALL your hundreds of friends on Facebook, only 5 will pick you up at the airport or help you move. This is VERY important to understand.

That's why you need thick skin if you post something you care about and no one 'likes' it.

Of course, the converse goes is true when you post a picture of your Converse and you get a TON of likes/comments.

Don't post more than 5 times a day. It looks bad. Seriously. Get a life. Or get a blog.

But post something at least once a week. Otherwise it looks like you have no life.

You can create your own lists so you can organize and categorize your 'friends'. This allows you to read news only from these friends and post only to these friends. No one can see these lists but you.

Your friends see your updates. Sure, some algorithms are better than others, but they see them - most of them anyway. They don't always know what to say, or are comfortable liking ALL your stuff, but they see your updates.

That said, sometimes they don't. Maybe they're too busy or just not into FB. That's ok. Message them, or pick up the phone.

Post what interests you on your timeline - short of porn and hyper-controversial subjects. But keep it varied, only because otherwise you look like that woman who believes in UFOs and lives with a dozen cats.

Understand that who you are in real life is often who you are on FB. If you're a loudmouth know-it-all, a political blowhard, or an annoying 'look at me' numbskull - that's who you'll be on FB. If you're a decent, caring, creative, normal person - you should be fine.

But make a note of how that works.

Try to say a little something about the video, music, article, etc. Please. Don't be lazy. Or mysterious. That sh*t is annoying.

Stay away from politics and religion - within reason. Seriously. You look like a lunatic. This is what Twitter is for.

Or again, get a blog.

If you have friends who feel it's necessary to tell all the people all the stuff all the time, you can unsubscribe or unfriend them. Or you can simply choose to see only important updates. With the latter, FB will cull their posts down considerably.

Sports. The timeline on FB moves much slower than on Twitter. So when you cheer your team on FB, you look like a lunatic. Also, hashtags don't work on FB - unless you're using it as punctuation. #SeeWhatIDidThere

Don't share what you don't want to share. It's that simple. If you don't want people to know you're a grand dragon, don't post that video of you giving the keynote at the Klan rally...

Don't sh*t in the stream. It looks lazy. And crazy. Pinterest goes to Pinterest. Instagram to Instagram. Linkedin to Linkedin. Twitter to Twitter*. Etc.

Because otherwise it looks like all your posts are coming from the Department of the Redundancy Department.

If you don't want people to know you're reading crap stories about Kim Kardashian and Lindsey Lohan, go to your apps in your privacy settings and set them to Only Me.

Go ahead and like something your friend says. It shows you saw it and liked what they said. It's like a warm fuzzy. But if you don't, then don't. If you want to comment accordingly, go ahead, but understand it's hard to see sarcasm.

Use emoticons. It helps people undertand you're being sarcastic and not just an a**hole.

;-)

Try not to swear. Think of FB as a community center. There are people you know well, not so well, and some you've just met. And there are kids hanging around. If you need to tell the state of Arizona to go f*ck themselves - Twitter.

No one cares if you have a cold or your shoulder hurts. Tell your significant other, or better yet your doctor.

Also no one cares if you're hungry, or if you're bored. Or sad. C'mon, are you 5?

If you say you're sad or bored, you're fishing. Two words. Grow. Up.

You are sad and bored? Seriously? C'mon! It's the internet! Hello! It has EVERYTHING from self help blogs to videos of cats playing piano. Bored? Sad? Pullllease....

But if you break a bone, or run anything more than a 5K - we'll like that. We want to be supportive.

Obviously, no one likes it if you break a bone, but hopefully you've included an amusing anecdote. Or a gruesome picture.

When you 'like' brands, it means you get their stuff in your newsfeed. This means the internet now comes to you. That's actually pretty cool.

But you can choose to unlike a brand if gets to be too much.

Also, there are interest lists which means you can manage what you want to see without having to like anything - if that's more your thing.

The profile picture of you that's actually your kid, or your dog, or a celebrity you want to be - it's time to let it go. The web is maturing. So should you.

Of course, it's just FB - which is social and fun. Maybe on Linkedin use a grown up picture.

Use your cover photo to show your amusing, creative, topical, and clever side.

Why use FB at all? Email sucks - 5 emails out of 100 are useful/important, and when's the last time you used your phone as a phone?

FB gives you/your friends a chance to peek in and see what's going on each other's lives. That's ok. That's good.

FB will never replace a wave or a head nod. It will never replace a handshake and a smile. It will never replace a hug and kiss. But it will do in the interim. It will do.

* The exception is Twitter, but only if the tweet is particularly brilliant/poignant. For example, when Michael Vick got a 100M contract after being in jail for dogfighting, $100,000,000... That's horse fighting money can be shared on FB. But a lame observation like, A hair band combined with a scrunchy is not that different than a belt combined with suspenders should not.