thoughts from an airport

I am enduring a delay at O’Hare, drinking at Chilis and thumbing through this week's Newsweek (blogging from my Treo). I am sick. I am dumbfounded. I am weeping. Openly.

Contrast that with a blog I read today that attributed America's success in Iraq to George Bush, but its failure to our troops. Has there ever been a more reprehensible opinion?

Right now I am reading soldiers' own words, in their own handwriting, on their own stationery, and I know they have a courage I'll never know.

And yet, somehow these letters from the front lines have posthumously reached this privileged (and half drunk) liberal, and I know that I need to do more to ensure that no one has to read more letters like this in the future.

I say that supporting our troops does not mean supporting their mission, but ending it. I say that opposing our president does not embolden the enemy, but weaken their cause.

I say that my tears over an Awesome Blossom pale in comparison to the tears shed over thousands of caskets...and that every additional tear is one too many.

Hating the Haters

I don't like Ann Coulter. Stop the presses.

 

By now everyone has heard about the end of Coulter's speech on Friday at the Conservative Union Political Action Conference. Still, for context, her words are worth repeating: " I was going to have some comments on the other Democratic presidential candidate, John Edwards, but it turns out you have to go into rehab if you say the word faggot -- so I am kind of at an impasse."

 

Predictably, sane folks on both sides of the aisle raced to denounce the lunatic. Edwards, too, scored points with rational members of both parties with this measured response:

 

Edwards said Coulter's comment was "hateful, selfish, childish behavior."

 

"What I've learned is that if you don't have the courage to speak out against it -- no matter who says it, and no matter who it's leveled at -- then it becomes tolerable," he added. "And it's not tolerable, any more than the language I heard leveled at African Americans when I was young."

 

OK, Senator. I suppose that was fair. And I understand not wishing to engage Coulter in an ongoing debate – giving her any more time only plays to her maniacal need for attention. And yet, Edwards missed out on a chance to truly put the conservative blowhard in her place and say something that is long overdue in America.

 

With that in mind, I'm dusting off my DeLorean, firing up the flux capacitor, getting that baby up to 88 mph and turning the dial back 48 hours. Senator Edwards – I've written your response:

 

Friends,

 

As much as I'd like to ignore her, Ann Coulter said something that I need to address. Once. Really – I will have nothing more to say to her or about her after this.

 

On Friday, Ms. Coulter referred to me as a "faggot". Friends of mine were outraged. Gay rights activists were offended. Even a majority of Republicans distanced themselves from Ms. Coulter's choice of vocabulary.

 

And yet, I say this: so what?

 

So what that Ann Coulter chose to be deliberately offensive? One of the greatest things about America is that all of us, even the most hateful of us, have the freedom to say disgusting thoughts that come to mind. One of the greatest things about America is that we can criticize the actions, intelligence or even sexual preference of a president (or presidential candidate) without fear of repercussions.

 

I've taught my children a lesson that I learned at young age, a lesson that I'm sure most of you learned and have passed on as well. I've taught them that "sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me". For all her hateful, ignorant and loathsome opinions, Ms. Coulter's words were just that – words. And words, while they have the power to influence, can never cause us harm unless we allow ourselves to be hurt.

 

Ann Coulter does not owe me an apology because I think being called "insincere", "dispassionate" or "un-American" are a lot worse than being called a "faggot". If gay Americans choose to be offended about her use of label, that is entirely within their right and I support their beliefs. But don't be offended for me – be offended that an attitude still persists that homosexuality is something deviant, something about which we should be embarrassed.

 

My fellow Americans: I don't care what labels you use to define me. My campaign is, as I've said all along, about building an America that lives up to its promise. And America's promise will always be about ideals, not the favorable or slanderous words we use to define one another.

 

I don't think that Ann Coulter represents a majority of Americans, but clearly her polarizing voice carries weight in some circles. And for that truth, I have a label for her, a label I use as my final word about her and this entire non-issue.

 

Ms. Coulter, and those for whom you speak – you are a disappointment.

 

What? You thought I was going to end with the c-word, didn't you? Well…I *was* thinking it, but I don't think that word would have made it onto the Senator's teleprompter.

Baseball as the Big Question

Those who know me well know I am a HUGE baseball fan. I absorb everything that is our National Pastime (still Major League Baseball, by the way, despite the NFL's vastly superior ratings). And to be honest, I was as surprised as anyone that baseball's ongoing steroid controversy never really registered in my baseball consciousness.

As much as a like to rant and take credit for things completely out of my control, I was not one of the loudmouths clamoring for drug testing a few years ago, nor was I one of the self-righteous douchebags who patted myself on the back for "forcing" the players' union to capitulate to popular demand.

In the wake of baseball's latest, big drug bust (Gary Matthews Jr may have used performance enhancers last season? Boy, I sure hope no one gives him a $50 million contract. Uh oh…too late) MLB has decided that all of its employees – not just the on-field talent – will be subject to random drug testing.

I don't like the notion of random drug testing, although I haven't exactly voiced my opposition at any of my last three workplaces where the policy was on the books (for the record, I have not yet been called to pee in a cup, although I keep up with my 10 am daily routine "just in case"). MLB seems to have adopted this stance for purely defensive purposes – who can accuse them of turning a blind eye to drug abuse when they're collecting urine from the office steno pool?

Salon's King Kaufman objects to baseball's new policy on purely idealistic grounds, saying, " Forcing workers, even very rich, very privileged workers, to surrender their rights just for the chance to make a buck is not what the America I grew up learning about is supposed to be."

And maybe that's the lesson here – and the parallel we can draw between Major League Baseball's drug problems and America as a whole. It seems that idealism today is too often countered by oppression. Our country was founded on noble principles, yet every day we sacrifice our core beliefs for the so-called greater personal good, the greater corporate good and the greater national good.

I'm not suggesting that an American patriot should take a stand against any one thing, any one politician or any one policy; rather, I'm saying that a true patriot should end a lot more of his sentences with question marks than exclamation points. Before we accept, we must always question…know what I mean?

Dear Self-Appointed Arbiters of Highway Safety:

(note – today I’m borrowing a template from one of my favorite, newly discovered blogs. After all, plagiarism is what I do best)

Let me get this off my chest right away: I hate you self-righteous fucks. Just because you don’t know how to drive in the snow (here’s a hint – gas is on the right, brake is on the left; hands at 10-and-2; you know, kind of like how you drive on a sunny day) doesn’t mean you have to pretend like your wheels are hanging perilously on the edges of a tightrope.

In Chicagoland, we got a dose of snow/sleet/rain on Saturday night. I was stuck in the suburbs, where apparently they rely on one plow and two salt trucks to cover 447 square miles. So yes, the roads were slick…but you fools were ridiculous.

Fifteen minutes after the precipitation began the roads had a glossy sheen to them. But you dickheads decided to parallel caravan three-abreast at 10 mph on the type of road under which normal circumstances folks would drive 65.

As I seethed behind you on one-lane roads, you slowed to a crawl at GREEN lights and STOPPED at intersections where only the crossing traffic had to yield. And maybe I shouldn’t have gotten up on your back bumper and flashed my high beams (or my impressive vocabulary of swear words), but really, I needed to teach you a lesson for trying to impose your weak wills on the rest of driverkind.

A few hours later and finally making my way back to the city, I entered a major interstate highway to find that you douchebags were intent on impeding my path home. At this point, about an inch of slush had accumulated on the ground, but to see you drive, I’d have thought there was a foot.

In the one lane IDOT had so graciously plowed, you drove coasted as if you were balancing a Faberge Egg on the tip of a sewing needle. I’m not saying you should have been doing the speed limit, but sweetheart, you have to go faster than 5 miles an hour in your four-wheel drive SUV! Isn’t that the point of buying that gas-guzzling monstrosity? And when I passed you (in my front-wheel drive, 4-cylander sedan) in the unplowed lane at 12 mph, your disapproving looks were about as appropriate as my next Andrea Yates joke.

Hey assholes, I’ll consent that the snow is a good reason to drive with caution…but “caution” can’t come at the expense of “drive”. I think I saw a dude pushing his stalled car on the shoulder faster than you!

You must always remember that I’m an important man with people to see and places to be. If you douchebags can’t get out of my way, next time I’m sending you careening off the road in the hopes that I have spared the world of future generations of vehicular pansies.

Why are greeting cards so…blech?

This Valentine's Day I am taking a stand. I'm taking a stand against conformity, a stand against expectations, a stand for my masculinity. This Valentine's Day I am taking a stand against the gratuitously effeminate greeting card industry.

 

Guys – who's with me?

How can any man feel good about himself when buying a greeting card? I realize that cards should appeal to the givee, but shouldn't they also serve as expressions of the men who buy and give them? I don't know too many guys who need to express their love – and I'm talking about genuine love here – with a six by nine card printed on pink paper, with a pink bow, lavender scent and an 18-line sonnet. Am I wrong, or is that a bit much?

I'm sure there is a market for the overly flamboyant card because there must be some women who appreciate (expect?) such a ridiculous gesture. But I know I'm not the only man sick of the choices (or lack thereof) that are out there.

And while the issue is most distressingly prevalent this time of year, it is not a phenomenon unique to February 14th. A few months ago I tried to buy a birthday card for my mom. Now I know that my mom *expects* a card from me – no gift, just a card. Simple, right? But here's the thing: my mom doesn't want or care about what poem Hallmark has written inside – she won't read the print or acknowledge the embellishments. The card is important to my mom because of what I write and what that means to her.

So what were my choices? The only cards in the "Birthday, Mother" section under $4.99 were a six-fold monstrosity with a pop-up lace heart or another containing a 250-word essay on the importance of mothers. If I wanted to step up to the $7.99 plateau, I could have purchased an oversized card with rhinestones…and who doesn't love rhinestones? They're the international pseudo-stone of well-wishing. Am I the only one who thinks $7.99 is a bit excessive for a birthday card? Apparently I must be; the store sold more cards priced over six dollars than under three.

I soon found the only other "Happy Birthday Mom" cards in the so-called Humor section – "so-called" because all of the "jokes" were spin offs of the old you're-so-old-we-have-to-use-a-fire-extinguisher-to-blow-out-all-the-candles-on-your-cake gag. Yeesh. Obviously, these cards weren't right for me, nor were they right for my mom.

As bad as that was, my 2007 Valentine's Day selection was even worse. Can't there be a happy medium? Why must every card be so disgustingly over the top or atrociously unfunny that I want to puke in my own mouth? Is it too much to ask for some industrious card company executive to design something that doesn't require me to check my masculinity at the door? Here's an idea (Hallmark, feel free to steal this one – I promise I won't sue):

Plain white stock, four by six inches. Front of the card has a simple flower – let's go with a rose because, for some reason, that's what you expect - with the words "Happy Valentine's Day" or "To my Valentine" printed in an attractive font on the bottom. The inside left of the card is blank while the inside right says "A special day; a special woman".

There, that's fairly simple, right? Now, sell that card for $1.99 and I guarantee you won't be able to keep enough on the shelves. Men of this millennium know that we're expected to personalize cards to the women in our lives and actually want to write our own messages; you can trust us to adequately adapt this card for our wives, moms, sisters, etc.

It shouldn't be this difficult, yet it is. Someone has to speak up before another man is forced to castrate himself in order to purchase a simple greeting card, and that someone needs to speak up soon – I've grown quite attached to my testicles and would hate to part company when we have so much left to do together.

 

And you thought I wasn't a romantic.

Happy Birthday to Me

In honor of PatRoW's first birthday, I am giving a present to you – one of an all-too-select few loyal readers. Today, PatRoW 2.0 launches with exciting, yet less-than-innovative new features. It's not like you come here for glitz…

Anyway, with inspiration from an old friend, I finally decided to use some of the tools at my disposal to make this site a bit more user-friendly. You will notice each post now has an associated topic (or two or three…), which will make it that much easier for you to say "shit – you wrote about douchebags 41 times already? Learn a new word already, dumbass".

Other new features added entirely for the surfing pleasure of you, my fair PatRoWista, include links to my favorite non-me blogs, as well as my frequently-surfed websites. Because, you know, I'm sure you're dying to get inside my head and figure out the origins of my genius.

In other words, fun for the whole family.

Anyway, after receiving such a fantastic surprise gift, I'm sure you're asking yourself, "Self, what can I get PatRoW for its first birthday?" Well I'm glad you asked.

I want a comment. Send me a birthday wish today. Write a comment about any of the nearly 200 entries I've posted over the past year. I've made it easy for you – there's a little button to click at the bottom of every post…now use it!

Undoubtedly, PatRoW has meant a lot to you in its brief year of existence. Today, and everyday in the future, I empower you to tell me the world about it. A wise man once said that with great power comes great responsibility. Well, with the great power you gain by reading this blog, you carry a great responsibility to tell me how awesome I am.

Please, don't let yourself down.

Aftermath

Last weekend, I met up with some old friends in New Orleans. Our "mancation" in the French Quarter was filled with the level of debauchery we expected of ourselves, and yet, I can't say that I left town with completely positive feelings.

Our New Orleans friends had asked about taking us on a "Katrina tour". I was reluctant, remembering all those asshole disaster tourists who flocked to the World Trade Center site after 9/11 to snap photos and pose in front of the epicenter of the worst event of my lifetime. But it was important to my local friends, so off we went.

First off, let me say that I had been through the Lower 9 ^th Ward before Katrina, and was never impressed with its aesthetic. To say that it looks worse now is a horrendous understatement. It used to look like a poor neighborhood and had sections that were stereotypically "ghetto". Today that would be a vast improvement.

As bad as the Lower 9^th was and is, at least the media has done an adequate job of reporting on the area. What I had not heard anything about was an area in which several of my friends lived – just east of the 9 ^th in St. Bernard Parish.

My friends lived in a town called Chalmette, only 8 miles or so from downtown New Orleans. It was a middle- to upper-middle class neighborhood. Homes sold for $175 - $400,000, which in that part of the country, equates to a lot more than it does within 10 miles of most major American cities.

Today, the neighborhood looks worse than any place I've seen in my limited travels through the Third World. Most homes are empty, many are gutted, nearly all are for sale (asking price $30-$45,000). Contractors are charging 10 times their pre-Katrina rates, and the few people who are trying to rebuild on their own live in FEMA trailers parked on the front lawn. About 1 in 20 houses have been rebuilt, and it is incredibly disarming to see a beautiful home and landscaped yard surrounded by run down messes, weeds and the absence of life or activity.

I saw a home in which the garage had collapsed on itself, with the family car still inside. A year and a half after the storm, and this station wagon hasn't been touched – except by whomever shattered the back window to grab whatever could be found inside.

We drove past a beautiful long wall with antique features and wrought iron fencing that was to serve as the border for a new gated community. Only the model had been built and it was gorgeous – large but modest, extravagant but tasteful – with the entire property bordering one of the levees. Needless to say, no construction has taken place since the storm. The fence and model still stand strong, mocking the desolation of the hundreds of bare acres that surround them.

As bad as it was, things have gotten better recently. My friend told me that large piles on debris (two stories high and spread out over a plot or two of land) had been removed just this month, finally helping some of the stench to clear. Most of the worst and most physically dangerous properties had finally been demolished. And yet, most folks haven't gotten more than $4,500 (from the government or insurance companies) to rebuild their lives.

After the storm, my friends let me know that they were all OK and I was never truly concerned about them again. Not only did they fail to tell me about their house being destroyed, but they also didn't tell me about the aftermath. Last weekend, they told me (and showed photos) about their "commandeering" of a boat and riding it up and down the streets ferrying people to shelters and supplies back into town. They told me about the guns pointed at their heads, and the guns they had to point at other people. They told me about the woman with MS who could not be moved, so they flew emergency flags that were ignored by dozens of passing helicopters. They told me about the guy who trudged around in a chef's coat for three days because he had no other clothes. They told me about siphoning gasoline from any source to help keep their boat powered as long as possible.

Needless to say, I was floored.

I hadn't been able to talk, write or really think about everything I saw until this minute – five days after my "tour". It is bad down there – still…and I don't know how anyone could hold onto any optimism. But somehow they do. I asked my friend's dad what one thing people need – not a billion dollars, but something tangible – and he said "nails". Their community is gone, and he wants nails?!? Can you imagine?

You have to drive down the street in this "good neighborhood" with your doors locked AND gun chambered in your lap. There were FOUR policemen working last Thursday in one of the towns. The streets are riddled with potholes – and those are the good blocks.

I don't know who is doing anything, and I don't know what I expect this rant to do. I simply needed to write down what I saw and remind people that we all share a responsibility to care. I've never seen anything worse (I still refuse to visit Ground Zero) and would selfishly hope I never have to again…except such sights are a fact of life for people I care about.

Something has to be done. Any ideas?

U-G-G-L-Y…you ain’t got no alibi

Boy, I tell you – whoever is writing editorials over at YPC, that guy is good! Remember his whole charity vs. philanthropy thing? Well, now he's back with another, slightly less serious (and, dare I say, more PatRoW-ish?) rant. Some folks might take offense, but I think that's what he had in mind. Enjoy.

(text since copied to PatRoW directly)

Women of Chicago: I write this to you because I care. I love your fashion-forward attitudes mixed with Midwestern common sense. I love your glam, and I love your ball caps. I love that you can pull off ‘cosmopolitan’ without a ridiculous attempt to copy Paris or New York; I love that you can do ‘comfortable’ without ditching your femininity.

Women of Chicago have a style that is both beautiful and unique…and that’s why this intervention is so important.

Ladies, on behalf of men everywhere I tell you this: the whole “UGGs” thing has got to stop.

Now.

UGGs, for the lucky few who haven’t noticed these atrocities on the feet of otherwise sane women around town, are the sheepskin boots in which women often tuck their pants or jeans. I love a good 80’s fad as much as the next guy, but people stopped wearing moon boots around the same time they remembered they had perfectly good full-length mirrors hanging in their homes. Can you see where I’m going with this?

No one is suggesting you wear stiletto heals to trudge through winter’s snow, ice, and slush (although we wouldn’t complain if you made that sacrifice), but please, you look ridiculous. The worst Australian exports since the “Crocodile Dundee” franchise, UGGs need to disappear into the same historical black hole that swallowed Paul Hogan. And yes, we’d rather you wore his leather vest and Outback hat than another pair of down under monstrosities.

Today, not all UGGs are even UGGs (this ghastly crazy is so popular that “UGGs” has become the generic term for multiple manufacturers’ footwear freak shows), but no matter the brand, they all have one thing in common – they make you look stupid.

I hate to be so crass, but ladies, it is entirely out of character for you to perpetuate such an unflattering look. You have so much going for you, but your UGGs tell the world “Why should I care about looking intelligent or attractive? My toes are warm.”

I’m sure most of you will brush off my warnings because – if TV interventions have taught me anything – you can’t change for someone else; you have to want to change dangerously addictive behaviors for yourself. When the weather warms up, you will delicately stow away your UGGs and replace them in daily rotation with those cute Crocs you found on sale last August.

And when you put those rubbery, Swiss cheese looking monsters on your feet, you’ll be hearing from me again.

The Small Penis Doctrine

One of the worst things about being a "grown up" (the fact that I'm married, own a house, two cars and a 401k makes this a sad reality) is having to be reasonable, bite our tongues and save most of our vicious name-calling for bits of road rage-induced fury or our self-important blogs. Even politicians, often devoid of both principles and common sense, know that they can't make personal attacks without definitive proof, and some have suffered from being too closely linked with groups that employ "swift boat" warfare against their enemies. And yet, who knew that a mainstream medium not only accepted, but encouraged this kind of maliciousness, and who knew the doctrine by which this is allowed would have such a catchy name?

It all started in March, when TNR's Michael Crowley wrote an article about popular novelist Michael Crichton and examined his 2004 best-seller, State of Fear:

The thriller presented global warming theory as the work of a fiendish cabal of liberal environmentalists, celebrities, journalists, academics, and politicians. Crichton's populist disdain for these "experts" dovetailed neatly, I argued, with the Bush administration's anti-intellectual streak…

OK, not even Dick Cheney wants to be associated with the Interloper these days, so it's no surprise that Crichton would be upset with this characterization. That a popular writer would lake a pot shot at a critic in his art is also perfectly reasonable; but just HOW Crichton struck back was a lesson in juvenile maliciousness that could teach the girls in my high school a lesson. Take this passage from Crichton's 2006 book, Next:

Alex Burnet was in the middle of the most difficult trial of her career, a rape case involving the sexual assault of a two-year-old boy in Malibu. The defendant, thirty-year-old Mick Crowley, was a Washington-based political columnist who was visiting his sister-in-law when he experienced an overwhelming urge to have anal sex with her young son, still in diapers. Crowley was a wealthy, spoiled Yale graduate and heir to a pharmaceutical fortune. ...


…[Crowley's lawyer] tried the case vigorously in the press months before the trial, repeatedly characterizing Alex and the child's mother as "fantasizing feminist fundamentalists" who had made up the whole thing from "their sick, twisted imaginations." This, despite a well-documented hospital examination of the child. (Crowley's penis was small, but he had still caused significant tears to the toddler's rectum.)

Oh, snap! Did you get all that? The fictitious *Mick* Crowley was a Washington political journalist who attended Yale. Real-life Michael Crowley is a Washington political journalist who attended Yale. As the real Crowley recognized, "in lieu of a letter to the editor, Crichton had fictionalized me as a child rapist."

Nice. Stay classy, Michael Crichton.

Oh, there's a bit about the "small penis doctrine", an apparently well known publishing industry trick employed by enthusiastic defamers to discourage their targets from filing lawsuits. Basically, no man will ever step forward to complain "that character with the small penis – that's me!"

You have to admit, the logic is brilliant. And in an unrelated matter, I'm proud to unveil today a few of the major players in my debut novel, Patience and the Reign of Witches, set to be published in mid-2007:

· Cal Rove – pudgy presidential advisor by day, kiddy porn aficionado by night. And he's got a small penis.

· Will O'Reilly – obnoxious media pundit who spews hatred and lies because of self-loathing due to his small penis.

· Dick Charmy – what's the opposite of onomatopoeia? This politician-turned-business man-turned politician is a smarmy asshole hung like a young boy's pinky finger (spoiler alert! That metaphor may be tested in Chapter 6).

· Matthew S. Myth – our hero, this truth-seeking crusader must topple a corrupt government using only his rapier wit and ridiculously giant cock.

I'll stop there, because I really do want to keep some of the surprises for the book. Let's just say that a certain President John W. Bish will cause some kind of global crisis through his gross mismanagement of resources, third-grade reading level and overwhelming shame about his poorly-endowed member.

Damn, being a writer is fun. Bring on the Pulitzer!

Quick Hits - Week(s) in Review

What happens when Republicans falter, Democrats don’t screw up and my political blood pressure cools from a boil to a mere simmer? PatRoW readers get the shaft with (at best) infrequent postings or (at worst) mediocre baseball analysis. But don’t fret, friends – Quick Hits has returned to pick up the many pieces that are worth a word or two, if not a full-fledged rant.

There is a gay agenda -- winning elections – I don’t believe it. Barney Frank, you sly dog you!

K-K-Kramer – anyone else still have Michael Richards’ catchy apology rap stuck in his head? Um…me neither.

Likability poll bad news for Kerry – perhaps the most understated headline of the year. It seems that the Massachusetts Senator, flubbed joke making, once-and-future Democratic presidential candidate finished dead last in a nation-wide likability poll of 20 top American political figures. Saying that this is “bad news” for Kerry is akin to saying that the passing of a kidney stone will lead to “some discomfort” or that the war in Iraq has been “notably different” results than what administration officials had hoped for. Way to go out on a limb, Reuters.

How is Kate Winslet like a car? – from those zany folks at Broadsheet, comes the latest in a series of wacky headlines. So how is Kate Winslet like a car, you ask? Hell, I can play this game without reading the article!

· She has “Oldsmobile” tattooed on her bumper

· Heh, heh. Hummer. Heh, heh.

· She has dumps like a truck, truck, truck

· “At 17 I went to prison for murder. By 19, I was penniless and heartbroken. I almost drowned at 20. My mind started to go at 24. Then I had my memory erased at 28. And by 29, I was in Neverland.” OK – so that really has nothing to do with how she’s like a car, but every time I see that stupid American Express commercial I want to run Kate over with my Honda Accord

Feel free to add your own idea for “how Kate Winslet is like a car” by posting a comment below. Trust me, it’s a blast!

Peace out, my Wigga – amazingly, this is not another Michael Richards joke. Rather, it’s an amusing tongue-in-cheek “entertainment” piece written by Salon’s sports writer, King Kaufman. Not so amusing is the fact that this seems to be a real story, not a spoof.

Sex and the single septuagenarian – and you laughed when I joked about this back in March. You know, there really is nothing sexier than the thought of busting a nut and breaking a hip at the same time.

‘Not charity, but a chance’

I read a brilliant editorial today that makes the important distinction between charity and philanthropy. It's a solid read for all of us, and God knows, the author's talent seems to ooze out of every line of his glorious prose. Enjoy.

The words charity and philanthropy have similar meanings and are often used interchangeably; however, it is the difference between the two that can have the biggest impact on someone’s life.

Charity is ingrained in our cultural fabric – we give to charity because we feel a moral or religious calling to do so. Charity is how we show our caring for people displaced by natural disaster, or our support for victims of crime or violence. Charity is the change we leave behind in the jar to help find homes for abandoned animals, or the extra dollar we contribute to help fight poverty in Africa.

Each not-for-profit company faces the challenge of distinguishing charity and philanthropy for its staff and supporters. And this challenge is not new; in 1902, the Reverend Edgar James Helms (the founder of Goodwill Industries), wrote that his organization should serve as “not charity, but a chance” for people in need.

How did Helms, and how do others provide that chance? The answer is philanthropy.Steve Gunderson, president and CEO of the Council on Foundations helped distinguish the two ideals:

"Charity seeks to provide immediate rescue and relief – it is the emotional response of our donations given to immediately respond to a disaster. Philanthropy is more focused on the long-term rebuilding, the problem-solving aspect of our society. In an educational perspective, this difference can be described in that age-old axiom of ‘I gave a person a fish and they ate for a day; I taught them how to fish, and they ate for a lifetime.’ The initial outpouring is charity; the longer-term education is philanthropy."

Whereas charity is essential to address immediate needs, philanthropy is the means by which organizations and individuals can support a long-term objective and create a legacy of change.

At YPC, philanthropy is our belief in education as life’s great equalizer. We strive to enhance university opportunities (both scholastically and financially) for Chicago high school students through our College Bound program. We support special individuals for whom access to education is the only chance to lead the type of life many of us take for granted. And we strive to provide our members with professional development opportunities to ensure that they don’t stop learning just because they may have completed a degree (or two, or three).

As young professionals, few of us can make the kind of gift that adds a wing onto a hospital or builds a new laboratory at our alma mater, but all of us can – with a little planning – utilize philanthropy to address the issues that matter to us most. The key is realizing that our philanthropic potential is not necessarily tied to our budgetary (or time) limitations.

Our philanthropy begins by opening our hearts and minds to the issues that matter most to us. Our philanthropy begins by taking action – any action – toward change. Our philanthropy begins when we realize that charity is a great beginning, but not the end of getting involved in something important.

There is a difference between charity and philanthropy – a difference that all of us can help define.

To make a charitable contribution this holiday season, YPC suggests consulting Charity Navigator to see their rankings of the most effective and efficient nonprofit organizations. Some of our favorite local charities are Chicago Cares (organizes volunteer opportunities for community groups) and Goodwill Industries of Metropolitan Chicago (provides work opportunities for people with barriers to employment).

Waveland Avenue Politics

Let's face it: I write when I'm mad, and I write what I'm mad about. The midterm elections and the subsequent Bush administration fallout have been great for our country, but devastating for PatRoW's loyal readers.


Therefore I'm forced to turn outside the political spectrum to address an issue that seems to be on everybody's mind today in Chicago – the Cubs' signing of Alfonso Soriano and how the team has become an instant playoff contender.


Sorry to editorialize, but that's a load of hooey. Also, it stinks like yesterday's shit.


Soriano signed with the Cubs for 8 years and $136 million. At an average of $17 million per year, the deal was obviously mirrored after one signed by Carlos Beltran of the New York Mets prior to the 2005 season. The biggest difference? Beltran was actually worth that money (insofar as any one person playing baseball can be worth $17 million a year), while Soriano is not. Let me break it down for you, Bill James style:


* In Soriano's six full MLB seasons, he has hit .281 with 205 homeruns, 556 RBI, 619 runs scored and stolen 208 bases.
* Over his first six full seasons, Beltran hit .284 with 146 homeruns, 562 RBI, 604 runs scored and 189 stolen bases.


Both players have fairly solid post-season stats under their belts (game-ending bases loaded strikeouts not-withstanding) and both play above average outfield defense. Soriano was thought to be something of a malcontent and Beltran something of a recluse, but both have effectively shed the stigmas.


Well, hell, if their resumes are fairly equivalent, so that means their contracts should be, right? Not so fast Jim Hendry. When looking at numbers, you can't forget age – and that's where Soriano should earn serious demerits.


* On his first day in a Cubs uniform, Soriano will be 31 years old. When his contract expires, he will be 38 (and that's if you believe his Dominican Republic birth certificate).
* On his first day in a Mets uniform, Beltran was 27 years old. When his contract expires, he will be 34.

James (and others) has used Sabermetrics to prove that the average baseball player has his best seasons between the ages of 27 and 29. He experiences a slight drop-off from 30-33, and a more sizeable drop-off from 34-36. Too few play past the age of 37 to make a statistically significant observation, but one can safely assume that few players get better (without the Bondsian assistance of performance enhancers).


Their numbers might be fairly equal, but the circumstances were not. Soriano was 25 in his first full season, two years away from a typical player's prime. Beltran was 21 at the start of his first season and still growing as both a player and a man.


Soriano's contract essentially rewards him for the exceptional prime of his career and will pay him handsomely as his abilities slowly deteriorate. In all likelihood, it is the last contract he will ever sign.


Beltran's contract rewarded him for the exceptional build-up to his career and his projected prime. In all likelihood, he will be able to sign another multi-year, multi-million dollar deal when this one expires.


I'm sure that brighter baseball minds than mine can debate Soriano's real value in the open market, but I have yet to hear anyone raise the point that Soriano is coming off a career year (when millions of dollars were at stake…what are the odds?) and is now locked up for big bucks long past when he can be reasonably expected to earn his salary.


I agree that the Cubs are significantly better today than they were on Friday; I just think they're a lot worse off for the rest of the decade.

The PatRoW Manifesto

I was in New York this weekend, and spent some time discussing politics with one of PatRoW's most loyal readers – a conversation that helped me crystallize a few important ideas before tomorrow's election:


Talking points – though the self-inflicted damage has been reasonably limited this year, Democrats have still been guilty of confusing rubes the electorate with criticisms of one another and alternate (sometimes conflicting) messages. Republicans, on the other hand, do nothing better than presenting a unified front delivered in simple, and endlessly repetitive talking points.


Think back to the 2004 election and how many times were we bombarded with the notion that John Kerry was a flip-flopper. Sure, he gaffed with his "I voted for the war before I voted against it" line, but here's the thing – he was justified! If not for the Dems' politically cannibalistic natures, our response would have been that Kerry cast aside partisan politics and doubt to support the President of the United States when he made his case before Congress. When proof was discovered of Bush's deception and betrayal, Kerry led the charge against the president's illegal war. Of course, Democrats hemmed and hawed and idiots today still think Kerry is an elitist flip-flopper.


A solution, as Bill Maher suggests, is to come up with some talking points of our own. But I'm afraid this won't work either, and it's because of fundamental differences between liberals and conservatives. Republicans are "ends justify the means" people; they don't mind recycling someone else's verbiage in the effort to win. Democrats tend to be idealistic and care about the process as much as – or more than – the end result. We seem to prefer losing elections over giving up an ounce of our individually reached opinions.


And lose we do…too often…in homes and elections across America.


Two black sheep – speaking about John Kerry, he has officially disappeared from the campaign trail. Of course, I maintain he did nothing wrong, and even – for once – rebutted his critics properly. Yet conservatives continue to harp on Kerry's flubbed joke and may be able to use it to stem the tide of lost congressional seats.


Let me make this clear to the kind of people who probably aren't reading this – John Kerry should be an election non-sequitur. And let me make this clear to the kind of people who are (or should be) reading – so should Ted Haggard.


Haggard is a hypocrite, clearly, and most likely a liar as well. He's admitted to some of the allegations against him and denied others. We will probably never know the full truth, but we do know this – his transgressions hurt this country's "moral majority" movement, but we hurt liberal causes by politicizing the scandal for our own benefit. I don't believe that the Ted Haggards of the world are good people because of what they preach, but I similarly don't believe they are bad people because of what they (allegedly) practice.


Of course, basking in the schadenfreude is perfectly OK.


Illegal immigration – Some news show held an election focus group in a Columbus, Ohio diner. One key topic came up there that has come up across the country – illegal immigration.


There's a line in "The Usual Suspects" in which Kevin Spacey's character opined that "the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist". Well, the greatest trick the Republicans ever pulled was convincing the country that "liberal" is a 4-letter word. Their second-greatest trick? Convincing Middle America that illegal immigration is a problem affecting their lives.


People of Ohio – listen closely because I'm only going to say this once. You didn't lose your assembly line and/or manufacturing jobs to "border-jumping wetbacks"; you lost them because our economy has become increasingly global and technology-based. The noble blue collar, dirty fingernails jobs that supported your family for generations have a limited role in 21 st Century America. This is unfortunate for you, of course, but illegal immigration is not the problem. What's the solution? Encourage your kids to learn Mandarin, Arabic and how to program your computer (setting the VCR clock just doesn't cut it anymore). At least they'll get to live the American dream you were unfortunate enough to miss out on.


Scandals, Lies and Doing Something about It – do you know anybody who is still undecided about the election? Well, the first step is to find out if your town allows the comatose to vote. The second step is to show them this – a "hit list" of atrocities perpetuated by the Interloper's administration in the last two years alone…clearly reason enough to persuade any independent with a brain that our country needs a change. Or, enough to shut up any conservative who likes to lie about how the world is a safer and better today than it was a few short years ago.

What’s in a name? (A pedophile by any other word would smell as revolting…)

TNR contributor Kevin Arnovitz asks "Mark Foley: bad for the gays?" I'll skip his reasoned arguments (that's just my style) to answer a resounding NO; what's bad for homosexuals is douchebags like you calling them "the gays" like they are objects, not people.

Anytime someone refers to a minority group with the article "the" attached as a prefix, it really sticks in my craw (sorry to use such harsh language). "The Jews" run show business? "The Mexicans" are destroying our country with a rash of illegal immigration? "The Muslims" are savage, bloodthirsty terrorists?

Let's not pigeonhole diverse groups of people into a convenient – and inaccurate – mold. Mark Foley is a pedophile and a homosexual, but his kid-touching ways are in no way reflective of the greater population of gay people…just like his man-loving ways are in no way reflective of the greater population of NAMBLA members. I mean, no one is asking "Mark Foley: bad for the pedophiles?" are they?

...

Maybe I'm a day late in my 9/11 retrospective, but shit, our country is only about 4 ½ years late in catching Osama bin Laden…so let's call it a wash.

Anyway, with all of the horrible memories of September 11 still fresh in our minds, I'm stuck on why some insist on perpetuating the lasting sickness of that day. No one is saying we should look back with fondness, but I swear that some elements of society (re: TV entertainews) have been salivating for the opportunity to replay images of the Twin Towers burning, people jumping and the buildings falling. Their sheer smugness is revolting…and it was everywhere yesterday; from Bill O'Reilly to Matt Lauer, every TV talking head was vying to out-douche his peer and show/talk about the most graphic and horrible aspects of the most graphically horrible day in a lifetime.

I wonder if the media's despicable actions yesterday are in response to what viewers really want, or if what we want is in response to what the media tells us. Are we all just masochists…or are well all just sheep?

Rather than celebrate the lives of the thousands who died, we seem obsessed with making ourselves miserable all over again. I don't need any help in recalling those dark feelings, and I resent the media, politicians, anchormen and office chatterboxes who insist on wallowing in their enduring sadness without acknowledging the fear, relief, and – above all – hate that is stronger than ever in American hearts.

And that's what 9/11 is about, isn't it? We're different now: we're afraid and we hate and maybe – if we're lucky – we have a greater appreciation for our loved ones. I don't need to watch a plane hit a building to remind me of those feelings; they've been with me every day for the last five years.

For the Record

I am Jewish and (if I were registered to vote in Connecticut, would have) voted against Joe Lieberman. Can we stop this anti- Semitic shit already?

Sometimes, even us Jews can be douchebags…isn't that enough?

What about four out of five Democrats across the country declaring happiness with Lieberman's defeat? Did you notice that nearly every prominent Democrat has already vocally supported Lamont and/or urged Lieberman to kill his Independent candidacy? What do these facts mean?

Oh yeah, I forgot – we all hate the Jews. Yeah, that makes sense…

The Clusterfuck Conundrum

Hezbollah sends a rocket into Israel, and because Hezbollah isn't its own country, Israel retaliates by attacking Lebanon. Just as the US battled Al Qaeda by attacking radicals in Afghanistan, so must Israel strike back against Iranian influence with its raids on Lebanon. It is a cycle of events that has and will continue to repeat itself – and one that leaves many asking this question:

What can Israel do? The conventional wisdom holds that any military action is counterproductive. The doves point out that the Israeli counteroffensive has boosted Hezbollah's standing in the Arab world.

Well, sure. But Hezbollah's prestige was also boosted by Israel's 2000 withdrawal from Lebanon . If aggressive Israeli actions boost Hezbollah, and conciliatory Israeli actions boost Hezbollah, then maybe Israel's actions aren't really the prime mover here.

The most sensical thing The Interloper has taught me is that the War on Terror is not one against any nation, but an ideology of hate. This is nothing new. Smarter men than me (yes, some do exist) have come up empty with a Mideast peace solution – a shortcoming likely do to the fact that logic can't win in a region dominated by hate and misinformation. I'm not necessarily pessimistic by nature (except my opinion that most people are idiots who will make bad decisions if given the chance), but how can this not end badly?

Perhaps a rosier outcome could be had if American forces weren't spread thin in Iraq (and elsewhere)…but I doubt it. Things are bad and they're going to get worse. A once optimistic and western-influenced Lebanon is on the verge of complete annihilation, and hate seems poised to carry the day for generations to come.

If Al Qaeda attacked Mississippi, would we really have to retaliate?

I have a small number of friends living in or originally from the Magnolia State, but I have to ask, with shit like this going on…could we really call it an unprovoked terrorist attack?

I see an Osama-planned assault on the Mississippi State House akin to Chris Rock's famous bit about OJ Simpson: I wouldn't agree with it, but I'd understand.

Scooter's Law

If PatRoW had a legal expert, we would ask him to weigh in on a surprising defense mounted by Scooter Libby in the Valerie Plame leak case, a defense that, if successful, could change our legal system's definition of fact and fiction, lies and the truth.

If PatRoW had a legal expert, we would ask him to comment on how one man could give a statement contested by three unaffiliated witnesses, yet claim he had not committed perjury.

If PatRoW had a legal expert, we would ask him to expand on the acceptance into evidence of a paradigm-shifting theory – that is, Libby's lawyers' contention that "memory does not function like a tape recorder, with memories recorded, stored and played back verbatim."

That's right; Libby's team has proposed that the defendant may have been mistaken in his sworn statement about the nature of his role in leaking Valerie Plame's identity, but he wasn't lying:

The crux of Libby's defense will be that he was too preoccupied with national security "matters of life and death" and that he could have easily confused "snippets of conversations" he had with reporters from Time magazine, NBC and the New York Times.

To paraphrase, Libby's defense team contends that Scooter was too busy a guy to be expected to remember things as they actually happened, and too important to be held accountable to something as irrelevant as the truth.

Not only is such a defense a self-important/last-ditch effort to avoid criminal charges, but it is a despicable and enthusiastic middle finger at the American justice system. TV has taught me that witnesses must swear to "tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God." If successful with their horseshit premise, Libby's attorneys will have set a precedent that allows any criminal/witness to lie about his activities and not be held accountable to charges of perjury.

If PatRoW had a legal expert, we would expect him to rail about how such a precedent could destroy the court's power to elicit the truth and reach a fair and just decision. That such a precedent opens avenues for deceit; that such a precedent eliminates the motivation for anyone to testify about unpleasant or inconvenient truths (ones that revolve around a crime, not Al Gore).

Of course, PatRoW doesn't have a legal expert, so you're stuck with my opinion. Here's a hint – it rhymes with "Scooter Libby and his lawyers are all pooch bags".

Quick Hits: Salon Selective

I subscribe to daily e-mail updates from Salon, which often serve as fodder for my brilliant posts. What happens, however, when I go away and the links pile up in my inbox? That's right – you get an oversized collection of stories and comments…and I have the nerve to call this shit "Quick Hits".

They can't all be douchebags, right? A Washington Post reporter had a very public, yet off-the-record lunch with a blue state GOP candidate (public in that teen heartthrob Bill Frist stopped by to say hello; private in that the reporter was not allowed to name his dining companion). Perhaps the political hopeful asked for anonymity because he had this to say:

Iraq : The war "didn't work" because "we didn't prepare for the peace."

Katrina: "A monumental failure of government."

Republicans in Congress: "We've lost our way, we've gone to the well and we drank the water, and we shouldn't have. You don't go to Congress to become the party that you've been fighting for 40 years."

The president: "In 2001, we were attacked and the president is on the ground, on a mound with his arm around the fireman, symbol of America. In Katrina, the president is at 30,000 feet in an airplane looking down at people dying, living on a bridge. And that disconnect, I think, sums up, for me at least, the frustration that Americans feel."

The president's refusal to admit failure in Iraq: "I don't know why the people around him don't see that. It is a frustration, to say the least. I think it is a lost opportunity to bring the American people along on a mission that is incredibly important."

The outlook: Being a Republican now is "an impediment ... a hurdle I have to overcome. I've got an 'R' here, a scarlet letter ... If this race is about Republicans and Democrats, I lose."

This guy's a Republican? He makes Joe Lieberman look like Dick Cheney! Actually, Joe does a pretty good job of that himself… Joementum my ass.

Mother knows best – my mom first told me about Josh Bolten's transcendent appearance on Meet the Press. But mom – what do you really think?

The latest outrage is that the interloper in the White House (Are you listening, Dick?) vetoed the stem cell bill and had the colossal nerve to say it was not political, but moral for him. I think that man (and most of his administration) is amoral. That was a blatant political move – having those "snowflake" babies and their families on TV. He has no moral fiber in my eyes… I though Tim Russert made mincemeat of the Chief of Staff, Josh Bolton, on this issue. I actually felt (a little) bad for this guy. I mused to dad that they can't possibly pay him enough for him to go on national TV and lie. But I guess they do.

Did I mention that my mom can't call George W. Bush "the president"? For a while, she was referring to him as "the man in the White House". Now, she's all about "the interloper". I think this one may have some legs…

Reading is Fundamental – on some level, you have to respect Karl Rove. No, not on any human levels, but on the way he can mold those around him into saying and doing stupid things (kind of like a balder, fatter, more evil version of Satan). His influence was apparent again last week when his attorney uttered this brilliant quip about the Valerie Plame lawsuit: " The allegations are without merit. We may comment further when we have an opportunity to review the complaint."

The quote truly sums up the Bush administration – a group of douchebags who came to power after recognizing that genuine knowledge is overrated, and reading is for pussy, commie liberals.

A sanctified solution – whenever someone opines that "homosexuals threaten the institution of marriage", I counter by saying that the sanctity of what my marriage is less threatened by gay relationships than by the 50% of straight couples who get divorced. Now, Representative Lincoln Davis (D-TN) has come up with an interesting – albeit tongue-in-cheek – solution:

If the sanctity of marriage is to be preserved, Davis deadpanned, Congress should "outlaw divorce" and make adultery "a felony." In addition, Davis said, "We should prevent those who commit adultery or get a divorce from running an office. Mr. Speaker, this House must lead by example. If we want those watching on C-SPAN to actually believe that we're serious about protecting marriage, then we should go after the other major threats to the institution."

Shit, its logic like this that's going to give Congress a good name again. Someone needs to stop this Davis character.

Better late than never? Representative Gil Gutknecht (R-MN), once one of the House's staunches supporters of Dubya's Folly (ooh, I like that one. Can I trademark it?), now is expressing doubts.

Gutknecht learned during his visit to Iraq that Baghdad is a "serious problem" and "worse today than it was three years ago." Another of Gutknecht's breaking-news discoveries: "We learned it's not safe to go anywhere outside of the Green Zone any part of the day."

It shouldn't take a trip to Baghdad to learn these things; anyone reading any reputable newspaper over the past year would have already known everything that Gutknecht just found out. So why didn't he? Gutknecht says he has been at the receiving end of faulty "spin" from the Bush administration, including claims that the violence in Iraq was being caused by just a few hundred insurgents. "All of the information we receive sometimes from the Pentagon and the State Department isn't always true," he says.

…Gutknecht says that if conditions don't improve quickly in Iraq, "Americans are going to start to losing faith in this thing."

I tell you, if Gutknecht ever loses his seat in the House, I will be the first to nominate him for the largely ceremonial position of Captain Obvious. What's next, Gil? "Yellow snow tastes like pee"? Thanks for the insight, dickwad.

Reason for hope – instead of being Peter Pessimism all the time, here's some reason for hope that our county – and lives – may be better after the November elections. This story includes news that PatRoW's favorite Land of the Lost-turned admiral-turned congressional candidate may actually unseat a GOP incumbent. Good times.