I Could Be Wrong, But…

I am convinced that John McCain threw the 2008 election when he chose Sarah Palin as his running mate. Think about it. How does a relatively intelligent man, a Vietnam Vet, a POW, select an obscure Governor with no name recognition for a running mate? What could possibly be gained by choosing someone with absolutely no interview skills?

• Don’t get me wrong. I voted for Barack Obama four years ago, and I plan to vote for him a second time.

This election is just as strange. The string of gaffs from Mitt Romney is so outrageous that I can’t help but wonder if the GOP is doing it again. We have just experienced the worst economic disaster since the Great Depression. Millions have lost their jobs and/or their homes, and Mitt Romney accuses 47% of Americans of being Lazy Entitlement Collectors? What gives?

Is it possible that the Grand Old Party has decided to take their focus away from the Presidency in favor of Congress, where they can do more damage? Think about it.
The power of the President of the United States is limited. Everything must go through Congress. Sure, the President has an agenda: a direction (s)he wants to take the country. The President has Veto Power, and the President commands the military. But the real power, the real MONEY, is in the Congress. You no doubt remember how Congress held the economy hostage during the 2011 Budget Debates, not to mention the Jobs Bill. Am I so cynical, that I would believe the GOP capable of such underhanded maneuvers?

I don’t want to be a pessimist, but there can be no other reasonable explanation for the irrational behavior of the Republican Party. No one can be that stupid. Unless, they’ve completely written off the Presidency for the more powerful, more profitable, more juicy positions in Congress.

Of course, I could be wrong.
But just in case I’m not, I’m voting straight Democrat this year.

Originally appeared September 17, 2012 here -> http://adignorantium.tumblr.com/post/31780569473/i-could-be-wrong-but

Dad Wasn't Perfect, But...

My Dad wasn't perfect, but neither am I.

This August will mark the nine year anniversary of my Father's passing. He was 62 years old.
My Dad struggled to make a comfortable home for us. Along the way, teaching me never to be afraid or ashamed of the work you needed to do in order to put a roof over your head, or food on the table.
In the 1970s, the economy was much like it is today. Dad was often out of work. On weekends you'd find my Father at flea markets, selling items he found at the curb on trash nights. He knew the Bulk Trash Pick-Up days of all the local municipalities. These were the days when you could put large items out on the curb for trash collection. You'd be surprised what people are willing to throw away. My Father was able to support his family like this for almost two years. Though he hasn't picked trash since the 1970s, he continued to buy and sell flea market items to supplement his income until the end of his life.

By the way - There is nothing wrong with picking through trash in order to support your family. The alternative is to resort to crime, or lose your home.

I'm proud of my Father for that. I credit him for my work ethic.

In August 2003, my Father had a heart attack. It was his third. His Doctors moved him from the smaller Delaware County area hospital to a larger Philadelphia area University Hospital in the hopes that access to more resources would help him recover more quickly.
Though cutting edge, the care wasn't as personable as his local hospital. My Dad was not happy. Against my Stepmother's wishes, he petitioned his healthcare team to relocate him. Though my Stepmother tried to keep my Father where he was, the Doctors relented. By the end of the week, my Dad was relocated to his local hospital.

I talked to my Dad on the phone that Saturday afternoon. He was concerned that I might be mad at him for choosing to return to the smaller hospital. I told him I wasn't angry with him. I believed that he would receive better care at the larger University Hospital, but he is entitled to have his wishes met.

"You're my Father", I said. "I Love you."
"I love you too", he replied, and hung up the phone.

I didn't give it much thought. But when the phone rang at 11:00pm, I knew. For some reason I just knew what I was about to hear. It was my Stepmother. My Father had just died.
After hanging up the phone, I got dressed and left my apartment. I didn't want to be alone. The obvious place for me to go was a local watering hole that had been an important part of my life for almost two decades. I didn't go there to socialize, or get drunk. I just wanted to be surrounded by people.

Through several interactions with people who knew my Dad was in the hospital, I processed this new information.

One acquaintance, who knew my Dad from the flea market circuit, recited several stories told to him by my Father. Apparently, my Dad held me in high regard. He bragged to everyone he knew about every accomplishment in my life, no matter how small. The stories contained such details that I knew he wasn't just telling me what I needed to hear.

My Dad was proud of me. I had never heard him say it. Just like, until that day, I had never heard my Father say I Love You. It was the first time I remember hearing my Father say I Love You to me. I was 38 years old, and I had never heard those words.

I spent the next few weeks in a fog. On one hand, I was sad. On the other hand, my Father's last words to me were, "I Love You". How was I supposed to process this?
I believe my Dad knew he was going to die. I believe he wanted to die close to home. I also believe his last words to me were intentional.

Whether true or not, my Father's last words to me were, "I Love You." Nothing can ever change that. And I will hold onto that for the rest of my life.

After all, my Dad wasn't perfect, but neither am I.

Originally posted June 17, 2012  on tumblr ->  http://adignorantium.tumblr.com/post/25300381668/dad-wasnt-perfect-but

The Men Behind the Curtain

       Please... Pay Attention to the Men Behind the Curtain!

Look past the four main characters in the 1939 cinema classic, The Wizard of Oz, and you'll uncover a whole lot of subtext. Take this little exchange from an early scene in the film, between Uncle Henry and miss Gulch.

Miss Gulch :  Mr. Gale, I want to see you and your wife right away about Dorothy!

Uncle Henry :  Dorothy? Well, what has Dorothy done?

Gulch :  What she's done? I'm all but lame from the bite on my leg!

Henry :  Oh! You mean she bit you?

Gulch :  No, her dog!

Henry :  Oh, she bit her dog, eh?

I'm not quite sure if Uncle Henry was messing with Miss Gulch, or just plain clueless.

It's one of my favorite scenes of the film. Here's this poor, hard working farmer, struggling to keep his farm afloat and trying to avoid conflict with a wealthy, busybody property owner.

I've always wanted to write a book that follows the story of what was going on in Oz while Dorothy was having her adventure. -- Think  Tom Stoppard's - "Rosencantz and Giuildenstern Are Dead"

I am convinced that Glinda is not as "Good" as she pretends to be.  I believe she and the Wizard had been conspiring to rid Oz of both of the "Wicked" witches long before Dorothy's unfortunate crash landing. In my warped mind, Glinda has had a dislike for the two “Wicked” sisters for longer than even she can remember. All she needed was an ally. The perfect ally came in the form of Professor Marvel, whom she undoubtedly mistook for a witch. -- Not far-fetched when you consider that, even after Dorothy explained that neither she nor her dog Toto was a witch, when asked for the direct root to the Emerald City, Glinda asked Dorothy if she remembered to bring her broom.

Clearly, Glinda was not paying attention.

I think Glina's mind was preoccupied.  I believe, when she saw the Wicked Witch of the East lying under a house, Glinda thought to herself, "One down, one to go!" -- Why else would she send Dorothy to Oz by way of the more scenic Yellow Brick Road instead of the more direct,  Red Brick Road? -- Everyone in Oz knows the Yellow Brick Road leads through The Haunted Forest and right along the property of the Wicked Witch of the West. It's one of the premier tourist attractions in Oz.

The other thing that makes me believe that Glinda isn't so nice: Giving Dorothy those shoes.

Glinda is a trouble maker. She interrupts a distraught Wicked Witch, who is trying to find out what the hell has happened to her sister with the antagonistic, "Aren't you forgetting the Ruby Slippers?"

Huh?

The Ruby Slippers magically appear on Dorothy's feet.
The Wicked Witch pleads for the tokens of her sister's memory.
The very defiant Glinda says, "There they are. And there they'll stay!"

Meanwhile, you can see Dorothy's terror. Clearly, she does not want to get involved.

Glinda further stirs the pot when she commands the Wicked Witch, "Be gone! Before somebody drops a house on you." Somewhat unsettled by this, the Wicked Witch takes her leave. But, not before threatening Dorothy and her dog Toto with bodily harm. Formulating a plan, Glinda says to Dorothy, "I'm afraid you've made a rather bad enemy of the Wicked Witch Of The West."

 You just know Dorothy is thinking,  "Wait.  What?  NO! I do not want to be part of this!"

This is where I think Glinda, upon sending Dorothy off on a wild goose chase, sets her plan in motion. In my warped mind, Glinda sets off in her bubble to the Emerald City in order to convince the Wizard to use Dorothy as a means to finally rid themselves of Wicked Witches. My reasoning comes from one single moment at the end of the film. A moment when you realize that Dorothy has been played. Glinda, with a big smile on her face, says to Dorothy, "You've always had the power to go back to Kansas."

Are you kidding me?!

I just wanted Dorothy to look Glinda straight in the eye and say, "I think I killed the wrong Witch!"
I wanted Dorothy to beat the living daylights out of Glinda. Or maybe look around for another bucket of water. If it worked for one witch, maybe it would work on another.

Now, during the course of the story, Dorothy is given several clues to Glinda's true nature. And, at each of these moments, Dorothy chose to ignore those hints. -- Perhaps she was just overwhelmed by all the colorful characters to notice what was really going on. Who can blame her. We Americans ignore what's truly important each and every day.

We Americans are so easily distracted by sound bites and clever phrases, that we allow a small group of extremists to hold our government hostage. We allow obscene amounts of money to influence the political process. Meanwhile, the average American family, like that fictional Kansas farmer trying to keep his farm, must struggle to make ends meet. The disconnect between our elected officials and the average American is shocking! Our law makers do as they please, and tell us, “Pay no attention to the men behind the curtain!”
 

I do know one thing. We must pay attention to the “Men Behind the Curtain” before it's too late. As a nation, we Americans must look past all the colorful characters vying for our attention, and see the real issues. If not, we're going to wind up missing our ride home, with some smart-ass pundit standing behind us saying, "You had the power to fix this all along."

But unlike Dorothy, there are no magic shoes. 

-
    -- Just sayin'.


Updated from the original, which was posted on tumblr as "What Happens in Oz" June 10, 2011
Find it here -> http://adignorantium.tumblr.com/post/7461237956/what-happens-in-oz
 

Ad-Ignorantium (a definition)

Ad Ignorantium  (Add-ignore-ant-tee-um) noun: Statements made by a speaker that are true only to the degree that the listener is paying attention. To appeal to ignorance.
 
Think "I am not a crook." or "I did not have sex with that woman." Both were true if you weren't paying attention. (...and truly believed them.)
 
I figured Ad-Ignorantium would fit the internet because no one really knows what is true or not online. However, when I chose that moniker for twitter, I never imagined I'd be so honest. Truly.

I stumbled upon Ad-Ignorantium while searching for something to take the place of my first choice, Non-Sequitur, which was already taken.

Non-Sequitur means "That which does not follow", which is far more appropriate for me.

Now you know.


-Frank

PS: Follow me on twitter. 
@ADignorantium