Remembering Veterans

A Sleep Up Ambien Production 

Today is one of my favorite holidays. It's a day of remembrance. A day in which we continue to honor the legacy and commitment of men and women who have served in our nation's military.

 I like days of memory.

  looking back at where we have been and where we are going is crucial to the soul of a citizenry. Reflection is a great trait to have.

 As a country and as a people I believe we continue to grow each day when we reflect. Although people disagree and debate policy, I believe that on this day, like many others, Americans come together to honor those who serve and sacrifice. In addition to the countless numbers of men and women who have fought for our freedom's, there have been millions of families over the course of our nation's history who have taken the burden and carried us in other ways.

Here's something else we rarely consider on a day of remembrance. Homelessness. Homelessness and veterans.

Real Stats

I've witnessed, but rarely interacted with homelessness.

  The only time I came across homeless people directly in my life was as a child on my way to Jacob's Field in Cleveland Ohio to see an Indians game.  A handful of homeless would ask for change as I looked away like a limo driver of Bill Cosbys in the 70's. My bad, the 80s.  I briskly walked forward and kept my head up. What could I really do?

Sure, later in high school I did sophomore service to help those that were less fortunate. But that was mandatory service. That's like going into an old folks home reading a book to the group and begrudgingly saying

"My parents said I had to be here to get the car back."

Fast forward to now, I'm reading about a homeless encampment under the I-5 bridge in Seattle named "The Jungle" (no relation to Axl Rose's Jungle) and how upwards of 300 people live under it.

The question on many Seattle residents mind is, how, in both a moral and ethical way, do we help these people and at the same time end homelessness? Or deter it.

What is this 1775 Valley Forge.240 years later? An encampment?!

Now sure, good natured people from both sides of the aisle have been talking about how to solve this crisis.

Every idea from 'why don't they get a working job?', to 'why do you expect my tax money to go to these social services?'

Some have suggested, including Democrat Mayor Ed Murray to induct sweeps to get them out.

I'm sorry, did I say sweeps? Were is my PC Seattle lingo when I need it.

Transitions. RIIIIIIIGHT

The mayor's carefully crafted words reminded me of this classic Carlin bit. 

Euphemisms

Other philanthropists have suggested the homeless get treated like uh, people and we usher in physical homes for these said "people."

Washington state is to depression what the Rolling Stones are to drug use yet,

"Washington ranks 47th of the 50 states in access to psychiatric beds, according to the Washington State Institute for Public Policy"

Say what now?


Of course things aren't always so Michael Jackson.

While many "tent citites" are popping up all over the nation, Hint: they're not buying tents for recreation, many people are looking for work or are one paycheck away from becoming poor themselves Just one example. If it wasn't for friends and family, many of these Americans would be living in these tents.

You my be asking yourself where my transition is from Memorial Day to Seattle homelessness. Well, like the 520 bridge during rush hour, try and have patience. See I could conjur up stats about how close to 1/3 of homless people served in the military. Or I could throw out random stats on the lack of mental health services provided to veterans and how that directly correlates to homelessness as many give up.

But I'll go a different route. What does it mean to be an American when we have the money, will power and good spirit, but not the drive?

I moved to the Seattle area almost five years ago. In that time I became accustom to the higher price of living here. Sure houses cost more, apt living sees a one bedroom half bath at 1,300 a month (not downtown). A down payment on a house costs about as much as getting shot by an East Cleveland gang, but you can make it work (with roommate help). This is coming from someone who has a high school degree and barely enough credits to pass as an associates degree. Cue Tommy Boy scene:

I digress.

The truth is, I, like most have it good. So good in fact that when I go camping I can pack up my equipment and go to another "encampment" called my apartment, where, and this is the best part, I can be warm, clean, drink fresh non Flint, MI water, wash and dry clothes, have lights, electronics and even chill my food.

Talk about camping in the modern Era!

It just baffles me, as someone who loves and lives history, that in 2016 instead of Home City, we have a Tent City.

I'm all for people helping any way they can and God knows I don't have an answer. I just hope this Memorial day we reflect on our gratitude,  and change our attitude about sacrifice, service and homelessness.

We owe more to the countless men and women who have wore the American uniforn. So as you reflect, think about the America you want to leave behind.

Turn of the Century Millennial

I'm a turn of the century millennial.

Upon moving to the Seattle area almost five years ago I became in tune to how social interaction is best kept polite and quick here; text and or by email. Keep it social, keep it Internet
Oh, and what you don't know?

Google it! No, you Google it

They're a techy bunch, even for what was 2011.

My Midwest affability and manurisms were quickly put to rest, when for example asking a Seattleite for the time was a look returned that might of well of had me asking,

"Can I kill your family?"

At the grocery store when the cashier asks how my day is, before I could respond with a good and.....

"Great. Thanks, have a great day!"

When he was caught the second time around notorious serial killer and former UW student Ted Bundy said he thought he'd never get caught because, and I'm paraphrasing, he never thought people were paying attention to each other in the PNW.

Interesting food for thought from a homicidal maniac who had described The Green River to a T before he was caught.A homicidal clock is right once in its life?

I digress.

Of course the reality is Seattle is no different then anywhere in America in that as the Doors said "People are strange, when you're a stranger."
A song every newcomer to Seattle relates to

Maybe because I'm a "transplant" as they say, that I feel strange.

We are all strange by default. It's a good thing. Like doing the speed limit when advertised.

 And we do it to each other at times, being strangers,  not knowing the squares in our pocket are turning us into just that, squares. I include myself.

That's not to say people don't speak on the phone or face to face (attributes the mafia used to deter getting caught I might add) here in the Pacific Northwest.

I can count numerous times I'm behind either a Honda or Subaru (The state cars of Washington) only to find some over Caffeinated,  but not foot-on-the-gas pedal driver, who equates slow lane with passing lane and vice versa) on their cell phones nonchalantly chatting away as traffic is slowly building, and its anger rises.

I remembered moving to this liberal, progressive hedonistic land thinking how religious fanaticism hold little sway in local politics. (They have a socialist on city council!)Pshh, Talk about Jesus thumpers, they actually believe the poor deserve housing!

Who does this guy think he is? Jesus?

I digress.

 I drove to work one day passing a bus stop as I came to a red light to see about twenty people, head bowed in what looked to be reverent prayer. Upon further inspection? Nope, they were just on their cell phones. All encompassed as we all are sometimes guilty to the Walking Dead mindlessness of ignoring your surroundings and forgetting your commute to work. You have to catch up on news.

I get it.

 It's in many ways our America now. Generations old and new have adapted to the times. In an age where you can meet your spouse online to ordering sexy edible lingerie over the Internet  (yum), we can connect and at the same time disconnect.

As a father, I want my child to know the Internet as a tool, but people as valuable commodities.

I'm 32, about to become 33 and I can remember landlines and phones on the wall just as I equally remember AOL chat and the beginning of MySpace and Facebook.

Back then common sense wasn't an app, it was, well, all to common.Say what now?

Now it's as rare as black coffee in Seattle

("I'll have a have whip have soy, decompressed, chilled, iced to -2centigrade mocha slide with a twist of butternut oreo, with motcha and a lime please?")

Back in the day we were confused:

"Why are they calling during dinner?" My parents would ask.

It wasn't that long ago, 1995, few if any homes in America had the large brick black phone sported by Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell. If you had one you were so cool.

I feel like I'm literally a turn of the century kid, who like generations before me knew both horse and buggy and the automobile.

I will be forever grateful for our "new automobile" but the Internet is a tool, not a person, and most certainly rarely ever a community one can fully trust.

Have you read an Internet comment section. Not a misanthrope? Wait until Betty White's birthday to see Facebook comments as I did at her last.

Who doesn't like Betty White?
In fairness, she deliberately stole her denchers!

Michael Corleone said it best,

"You keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

I read that as you 'keep your technology close, but your friends closer.'

I'm happy we live in a world were you can tune out and in to whatever is happening in the world. But, and this is a big but, not at the sake of the world around you. And I don't mean your online community. I mean your in line community.

I get the satisfaction Mick and Keith were looking for when I'm walking in the Seattle area and I say hello to a complete stranger offering a midwestern sensibility.

He looks at me not sure what to do. He doesn't have his headphones on so he can't straight ignore me. No, that would be impolite.

Maybe I get a kick out of the impromtu jovaility a stranger could offer, or maybe deep down I want a friend.

From the horse and buggy to the automobile,
The land line and face to face interaction, to words and accessibility, the world turns.

The world turns into an overall better place I feel and looking back at both "turns of the century" I have to sit back and enjoy the human advances.

Maybe I miss the patience of it all. Great songMaybe I miss the pen and paper. The getting lost without direction. The explorations of parts unknown. Say what you will about the horse and buggy and the 90's way of communicating, it always, by default, slowed you down.

Maybe that's what we need more of Seattle.

 (But please, for the love of Puget Sound, not on the road!)

Now, hurry up and pick up your damn coffee, I'm double parked and late for work!

I'll take mine like my preferred time of day please, black.

Sleep up Seattle. And tune in, to each other. ;)

It's All Going to Pot

 

Before departing this green Earth, country music legend Merle "The Pearl" Haggard (he had a minor stint in the NBA)He didn't, but what a life! teamed up with legend Willie Nelson to coin the catchy jingle, "It's all gone to pot." A country tune with groove , and a tongue and cheeck attitude about where our nation is today about legalized Marijuana.

The majority supports it.

I know that if you're like me growing up in Midwest Ohio you thought that the only people who smoked pot were musicians, burn outs,  and street performers. Bill Clinton, when running for POTUS Said he never inhaled.

Cue Dr. Evil "riiiiiiiggght"

I, as a small pubescent, learning about the dangers of hard drugs in Ohio sat through DARE classes in the early 90s.It had a song to it that I can remember being as good as a  Milli Vanilli number. This of course being after the suicide of Milli. Or was it Vanilli?

I digress.

I was taught, by the same people who watched Reefer Madness in high schools, that Pot was a gateway drug to hard drugs like heroin and cocaine. I was being told that if I tried pot, it would be a slippery slope to a harder life style of addiction. Yes, it was like they were telling me, "If you listen to the Beatles it was a slippery slope to the Sex Pistols!"

And everyone knows in America sex and guns DON'T mix.

Of course I grew up never really trying pot until I was 18 and for me, since you know, we are all chemically different, it didn't really spark my intrigue. I felt no need to run for political office. I didn't make a Sgt. Peppers album, nor did I become a writer for the show Beavis and Butt head. I instead felt like NY Times columnist Maureen Dowd and thought I was having a heart attack, True storyso naturally I occasionally tried it again and again, until finally I gave up.
Nope not for me. My calming down with come from over the counter legal meds that will help me fall asleep.

Instead, alcohol was the gateway for many a bad behavior and yet as I read the May 20th edition of my local paper, The Redmond Reporter on the front page is an article reporting the concerns about recreational pot shops in Redmond.

Just say No. Just say children

For those of you who are not from Redmond, Wa it's the ideal suburban town about twenty minutes from Seattle, home of the Microsoft Campus and a million small business in a two square radius with one way streets. The bike capital of the Pacific Northwest, it is also the Slow Lane Drive capital of the PNW.

As I read the article I always want to play Devil's advocate and listen to opposition. The problem I'm having is hiding behind the children narrative, as those who oppose legal Marijuana tend to do, doesn't make much sense in an America where pot is as assessable as an illegal movie download. Successfull comics like George Carlin said it right..
Child Worship

One of the fathers of three kids said in the article  that he has kids in middle school and they already have access to marijuana.
Ahhh Public School.
 I had to go to a private high school to see the harder drugs, but middle school is when I noticed the Ohio drug culture. (Lots of Primus t-shirts and old Grateful Dead shirts) Think mid 90's.

I get it.

Nobody wants their kid to be the next Keith Richards. (Well unless his paycheck is in consideration) but I've been in these legalized marijuana shops and if you're under age, they are harder to get into Coachella underage. (OK, bad example)
My point is that much like gay marriage, the American public, even those who don't personally smoke, see legalizing Marijuana as both safe and good for the economy.
Alcohol is responsible for more deaths and broken homes then any weed only related incident.
It's like saying the Beatles can be compared to the Monkeys.

Well hey, I'm not fooling around.
And I found a 'Day Tripper'.

 I wish the good residents of Redmond who oppose pot try and educate  themselves and their children about the drug.

Yes, you have to be 21 to buy it. As a father you can be real with your kids without having to come across as the Cheech to their Chong.
The truth is, since WA legalized recreational Marijuana they've generated more tax revenue then a Wesley Snipes audit and from what I hear they're funneling that money back into education. And for what you may ask?
For education about harder drugs.

Give me a stoner over a drunk any day.

In that catchy jingle I mentioned earlier both Willie and Merle get to the chorus with a whit and charm two aging pot smokers know to be all real having lived in America that prohibited the plant they see as liberation. Sounding like a cross between Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire and a cross of Snoop Dogg if he went country, the song fires upon the humor that is the illegality of a drug that's caused as many deaths as Cleveland Brown's Superbowl.

It's All Going to Pot
"Well, it’s all going to pot
Whether we like it or not
Best I can tell
The world’s gone to hell
And we’re all gonna miss it a lot."

In other words, there are bigger fish to fry and if Americans want to get fried?

Dominoes delivers and Netflix sees boosts in sales.

Hating Babies?

A Sleep Up Ambien Production 

You read that title right. I just changed the font of this to 'Georgia' for effect. Or is it affect? 
I digress.

I just got done chatting with a "Facebook friend" You know the type on the Facebooks who I know through mutual friends who I don't really know, but when he gets famous,  (because he's a Bellingham comic),I'll claim to have been besties with him. I've met him at a couple of our friend's parties and he seemed like a normal, Washingtonian type guy. Could be a serial killer, or an architect?

I recently discovered after listening to a podcast with him talking about his process for comedy that he hates babies. He hates babies. I learned in a creative writing class that if you repeat a sentence it adds effect (or affect) to the reader. So now, imagine if you will my inner Jack Torrance at the lodge in the Shinning moment. He hates babies. He hates babies ×100
Now I've heard people say they don't like babies, they don't care for them, hell, they don't want them. Conversely, I have heard people say they hate war, disease, poverty, racism, homophobia and the cast of Glee!

But babies?

Hate is a strong word. A powerful word.

The funny thing to me is, I don't want to know the why. Why does he hate babies? I don't want to know, because it's intriguing to keep up the mystery. Like what would a baby have to do to conjur up feelings of, not dislike, not annoyance, but hate! I hate babies. Hate.....babies. What did a baby do to him?

I imagine a scenario in which our guy who hates babies, (if I haven't said that already), is about nine. No ten. He's ten.

He just won the big game for his little league team and everyone gathers after, coaches, parents, kids to get ice cream.

The lady operating the window of the local ice cream joint says uh
"Alright kids, do to the high demand I have enough ice cream for the next two in line!"
To himself, our guyA funny guy who hates babies thinks 'Great. There's a lady in front of me and I'm number two. I'll get ice cream.'

He smiles.

As soon as he realizes this and he's number two in line the lady in front of him, turns around to reveal in her hand an ice cream cone and a six month baby strapped to her chest holding that second cone. Suddenly, and without warning or provocation, the baby shits it's diaper dropping both its cone, and number two on our guy's face. This creates a waffling Superman flavor smell of ice cream shit as our hero looks to the sky and says out loud.

"God, I hate babies."

So yeah, if he came to me with that scenario I'd say,
"Wow, yeah I get it. Hey, who wants ice cream?"

PhoneBook

Phonebook

A Sleep Up Ambien Production 

Written in the spirit of the late great George Carlin.

Did you know that before the Facebook there was Phonebook?

It didn't have lots of pictures, just names, addresses and numbers.

I'm on Phonebook.

It wasn't really interested in likes

It didn't need to be tagged.

Just read here and there for practical use.

It didn't have comments.

But it had sections, by last name!

You may have surprised someone by calling them on a land line!

Maybe you wished them happy birthday!

But how did you know it was their birthday?

You could write them a letter to send in the mail.

No E before mail back then.

You had an address, so you might visit them by surprise!

It took a little more effort then a click of a mouse.

Back then, we wouldn't allow mice in the home.

Did you know how to get 'there'?

No?!

Well, looks like we're getting lost.

"Hey, I never saw that store before!"

People got lost, nothing was ever found.

Especially your keys!

The Phonebook could be used for all sorts of things.

From a door stopper to a ladder of sorts.

Of course Phonebook lost to Facebook

And to face time which replaced the real time,

of human connection which,

in another dimension in time and space

was replaced,

by your face on a device,

which, eh, seemed nice

but the spice of real connection lost attention

of human kind,

Can we rewind?

We have videos on our phone
but we're still home alone.

In looking for that rectangle in our pocket,
We're hitting the out of tune rocket.
Countdown with me.
5..
4...
3...
2..
1...
Ah man, I missed not only a call,
but a poll on eating in the raw!
There's a quiz for common sense
that says I need to pay 50 cents I'm dense.

We have more information at our fingertips
but we're rarely thinking, from our brains to lips.
The bullies used to make fun of those online,
now online is where everyone is!


I wish you'd just see that human interaction

is part of this faction that's a retraction of

"Oh can you please put down your phone,

you're not alone, look up."

There's a whole world looking for connection to the direction of real affection.

But look, although we may be falling

and your cell is loud and calling.

Come back to land and pick up your phone.

I've been trying to reach you by the phone book.


Written in the Spirit of George Carlin
The Life of Genius