Year-end Review

1. Who has most influenced me during the past 12months?

Chris. It's a very complex thing, but Chris is someone who did not hide his contempt for me as well as he thought he did. Usually dealing with someone who doesn't like me makes me very uncomfortable, but I actually found power in the knowledge and for the first time did not feel compelled to try to change his mind.

2. What did I learn? Skills? Knowledge?

There is not enough space on all the Internet to detail this answer. But, I'd say the most important thing I learned is that I am capable of far more than I imagined.

3. Who did I befriend?

Myself. How narcissistic is that? But I've spent a lot of time alone in the last five months, and I've actually enjoyed every minute of it.

4. What’s better about my primary relationship?

I don't have one of those. Maybe I should look into that.

5. What’s worse about my primary relationship?

I try not to acknowledge lack, but it's hard to pretend you have something you don't.

6. What’s my biggest disappointment?

I'd say my biggest disappointment is that I couldn't make my last job work. But in the final analysis, it was all really beyond my control. There were massive egos -- much larger than mine -- in conflict. As much as I'd like to, I just can't accept responsibility for that.

7. What other disappointments did I experience?

I'm sure there were a few minor disappointments, but none I can't think of any.

8. If I had this year to do over, what would I have done more of?

I would have liked to have traveled more. I really want to go back to Paris.

9. If I had this year to do over, what would I have done less of?

Eat chocolate croissants. I'm beginning to suspect that with one more croissant my arteries will be completely blocked.

10. What was my greatest joy?

Spending the last five months waking up in the morning and feeling free.

11. What’s been the biggest change in the past year?

I don't feel stress they way I did. I feel more engaged and confident that I can really do anything I set out to do.

12. What was my biggest heartache?

There weren't any.

13. What was most annoying to me about the past year?

People who take their dogs to outdoor cafes and allow them to lounge in the only area where people have to walk through the tables.

People who go to outdoor cafes and feel empowered to light up their cigarettes, simply because they're outside, regardless of the fact that there are people eating mere inches from their stink sticks.

14. What was the best book I read this year?

The Best American Essays of 2007

15. What was the best movie I saw?

I don't know if it was the best movie, but I find myself thinking about P.S. I Love You quite a bit.

16. What are my biggest concerns at this point in my life?

My biggest concern is my mother's health. She lives alone in a small town in northwest Iowa and it is at least a full day's travel to get to her. We had a health scare over the summer and it became clear that she needs to be moved closer to either me or my sister. The trouble is she hates both Arizona and Chicago.

17. What do I want more than anything else?

The means to sustain my current lifestyle, but also to make extended trips abroad.

18. What would I like to be more disciplined about?

I need to be more disciplined about doing laundry. I have enough clothing so that I can go months without doing laundry. The problem then is that it takes months to make them all clean again.

19. What would make my life more enjoyable?

I would really enjoy having a second home in Paris.

20. What would make my life more meaningful?

I don't believe the meaning of life can be defined until the end. I'm thankful that I'm not at that point.

21. What would make my life more comfortable?

Our building needs to replace the windows. That would make my condo a little less drafty.

22. What would make my life more challenging?

I don't like to think about this question. It's like borrowing trouble.

23. How am I different from last year?

I think I'm more mellow and I enjoy the things I'm doing more.

24. Where have I held back?

I'm still not as proactive in meeting people socially as I should be. But I also don't necessarily feel compelled to make any more effort.

25. In what ways have I been more giving?

I think I'm more forgiving -- if only by a smidge. I hold fewer grudges, and by that I mean that when someone turns out to be something unexpected, or when they do things that aren't in accordance with my own plans, I accept that and move on. I rage at the gods less than I used to.

26. What worked better?

There's a thought that the universe will keep presenting the same lesson over and over until that lesson is learned. It will also give you the opportunity to face your fears. Well, this is the third time in my life when I've faced unemployment, and this time around I think I did it right. I don't think I'll be unemployed again.

27. What got worse?

If anything, I'd say my bank account. Five months of unemployment is expensive.

28. How did I treat myself particularly well?

I think I've learned to accept responsibility from and for myself, without accepting blame.

29. How did I coast this year?

I don't think I did. In many ways this has been the most productive year of my life. I graduated with a masters degree, I completed three applications for PhD programs, I started a little business, I learned how to market that business -- and for those last two things, I learned everything from the ground up by going to the store and buying several books, I wrote a collection of short stories.

30. How did I climb this year?

See the above. And I still feel like I'm in the foothills.

31. How did I make myself more valuable in the marketplace?

I developed mad skills, not just hard skills like learning Adobe Creative Suite, but I also developed softer business skills. I can tell this by the interviews I've done where the questions they ask are not necessarily the run-of-the-mill "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

32. What was easier this year?

Everything.

33. What was harder?

Nothing.

34. What are my biggest risks?

There are examples of taking risks, but they all boil down to one thing: maintaining my self confidence.

35. In what ways did my primary relationship improve?

As stated above, I don't have a primary relationship with anyone other than myself, and that relationship has improved in that I now think much more highly of myself.

In what ways didn’t it?

I need to eat more vegetables.

36. Have I done anything this year for which I need to forgive myself?

Nope.

37. How did I give of myself without thought of personal gain?

I think this is a loaded question, because I think it is completely against human nature to do something without an eye toward personal gain. However I do think that it's possible to make personal gain a secondary concern, and in that way I'd say that I've been generally supportive of a number of people in my life who have been doing brave new things for themselves.

38. What didn’t work that should have?

I think I might have landed a few of the jobs I interviewed for, but didn't. But I also think that no matter what, I wasn't going to get a job until I had my PhD applications completed. A new job would have been an excuse not to move on with my education.

39. What was the most interesting thing I did this year?

Starting my own business has been interesting. I started it, not out of a sense of need, but because I was interested in photography. Watching it grow and develop, and watching my photographic skills improve has been very interesting.

40. What was the most challenging thing I did this year?

Completing the PhD applications was the biggest challenge. First of all, they're incredibly detailed, but on a personal level the challenge was confronting insecurities that told me I wasn't smart enough or good enough to be considered for the programs I wanted. I may not be accepted into any of the programs, but I know that I am at least good enough for consideration.

41. What was the hardest thing I did this year?

I don't know what the hardest thing was. I know that the easiest thing to do would have been to allow myself to wallow in self pity this summer when I lost my job and had to face my mother's health incident. I've been guilty of that in the past, but I didn't do it this time. It wasn't particularly hard, but it wasn't exactly easy either.

42. How did my net worth change?

My net worth decreased, but my net value increased my a much higher degree.

43. How did my income change?

Yeah. It evaporated.

44. What courses did I take to learn new information and/or new skills?

Outside of the masters program, I didn't take any formal classes, but I read a ton of photography, business, and marketing materials.

45. What health challenges did I experience?

I need to find the motivation to get back to the gym on a regular basis.

46. How am I a better husband/wife?

Does not apply to me.

47. How am I a better father/mother?

Thank God this doesn't apply to me.

48. How am I a better citizen?

I feel like I'm better informed about political events. I'll be making my presidential selection from a much more informed point of view.

49. How am I a better employee/employer?

I'm more confident. I just hope I'm not cocky.

50. How am I a better student, teacher?

I'm interested in just about everything. Every day I enjoy reading more.

51. How am I a better son/daughter?

I'm accepting the fact that my mother and father are human and all that implies.

52. How am I a better sister/brother?

I'm giving my sister more space. I'd like her to be a little more involved with me and her mother.

53. How do I feel about where I live?

I love Chicago, and I love my condo. There's a small chance that I'll move this year, depending on acceptance to a PhD program. I'll be disappointed if I have to do that.

54. What do I have that is unfinished?

I had really wanted to have my collection of short stories completed by the end of 2007, and it's not. But it is becoming a coherent collection and if I can have two weeks to devote to nothing else, it will be finished and brilliant.

55. What am I doing for my community this year that I wasn’t doing last year?

I'm going to pay more attention to neighborhood politics. I think we need a new alderman, or we need to make the current alderman more accountable.

56. What risks have I taken this year?

The risks have been mentioned above, and they've been along the lines of major life change risks. I need to take more social risks.

57. How would I rate this year in terms of happiness?

The year I was sixteen was my happiest year, but this year comes in a very close second.

58. What are the most boring things that I’ve done this year?

I have watched too many Project Runway reruns.

59. Am I as happy as I would like to be?

I think happiness is measured in satisfaction, and I'm very satisfied with my life right now.

60. How was I acknowledged? Awards? Commendations?

In many ways I feel like I'm one of the best-kept secrets in Chicago. But my time is coming. I can feel it.

61. Am I better off this year than last year? Why and in what ways?

I am better off. I'm comfortable with myself in a way I've never really experienced before.

62. What phone call have I been putting off making?

All of them. I hate talking on the phone.

63. What are my most valued material possessions? Why?

I think I could walk out of my house with my computer, my camera, and my cat and not really miss anything else. These things feed my soul because they allow me to express myself.

64. What are my most valued non-material possessions? Why?

Without a doubt it's my sense of humor. It may not be apparent from this blog, but I can really crack myself up.

65. What do I have in my life that has eternal value?

I have the love and respect of people who I find endlessly fascinating. There aren't a lot of them, but the ones I like I could spend the rest of my life getting to know.

66. What has been my greatest learning?

All real learning is self discovery. I'm grateful that however deep or shallow I may be, I remain interested in myself.

67. Who have I helped become a better person?

At my last job a woman I was working with let slip that she thought I was stupid. She actually called me stupid to my face. At the time I very nicely and professionally explained to her, first why that was inappropriate, and second thinking you are smarter than everyone else is a very dangerous state of mind.

A few weeks later she gave her notice and came to see me to tell me that she was sorry for her comment, and that she in fact did respect me. I stopped her and told her that an apology was unnecessary, but I also told her that it was very clear that she did not in fact respect me. I told her that it was all right, that I didn't think she was a bad person, but that she had made a mistake on several fronts including her judgement of me and her inability to keep her opinion to herself.

I think I gave her something to think about.

68. If I were accused of being a kind and generous person, would there be enough evidence to convict me?

Yes.

69. What am I most proud of having accomplished this year?

My degree. They can't take that away from me. No, they can't take that away from me.

70. What did I do to make the world a better place for someone other than myself?

I gave money to homeless people on the street.

71. If I were to ask the people who know me best, who I am and what am I about, what would they say? Would I agree with them?

I don't know that I'd ask. People's opinions about me are none of my business because they really say more about them than they do about me. I've come to the realization that people's opinions are really reflections of themselves, and it's none of my business how they see themselves.

72. Am I more organized today than I was a year ago?

Not really. I'm pretty organized to begin with.

73. How would the world have looked if I had not been here this year?

There are but a handful of people whose presence has any impact upon "the world." I do not count myself as one of them, so the world would look pretty much as it does with me.

74. What actions had the greatest payoff?

Buying my first book on photography. It hasn't generated a lot of money, but it has been invaluable in securing peace of mind.

75. On a scale of 1-10 (10 being the best), was my life in balance?

3. While it has been immensely enjoyable, I cannot claim that my life has been balanced. Achieving some degree of balance is of the utmost importance for 2008.

76. What was the best day of this past year? Why?

The entire month of August was pretty great.

77. What was the worst day? Why?

The day I was laid off was pretty bad. But it wasn't the actual termination. The hours leading up to the phone call letting me know that I was on "the list" were a little emotional. It was disappointing that something that could have been so great simply died because of a clash of egos.

78. For what am I most grateful for?

My mind.

79. In whose life did I make a difference?

I have absolutely no idea. That would be an intensely personal piece of information.

80. What activities brought me the most pleasure over the past year and how will I incorporate more of them into my life this coming year?

Reading with a knowledgeable eye. I love reading a story, a novel, an article, or an essay and having an understanding of how it is constructed. I love having that appreciation.

81. What is my greatest fear?

My greatest fear is lack of accomplishment.

82. In what and in who have I invested in this year?

My greatest investment has been in myself. Now I need to generate dividends from that investment.

83. What have I let go of this year?

Fear of being inadequate. I think that is completely gone.

84. Do I really believe that I cause, promote or allow everything I have in my life?

No, but I do believe that I play a big part in it. Every now and then God gives things a whirl just to keep things interesting.

85. What was the funniest thing to happen this year?

I'm completely stealing this from Alex's blog, but this comes pretty close to being funny in itself. When looking at it from a metaphoric standpoint with Linda Day George playing the role of Everyman, this is cosmically brilliant!

86. Who did I hurt this year and how? How can I make amends?

I'm not aware of hurting anyone.

87. What was the most positive experience I had this year?

Being laid off from my job.

88. What was the most negative experience I had this year?

Realizing that my mother is not immortal.

89. What did I do to enrich the life of someone less fortunate than myself?

I think the only real misfortune is lack of self knowledge. I can have no way of knowing if I enriched anyone by helping them attain a level of self knowlege.

90. What did I do this year to develop my spiritual life?

I read.

91. What delighted me this year?

Waking up on a Monday morning and rolling over and going back to sleep.

92. What was first thought to have been negative that turned out to be a good thing?

I can't think of anything because I'm actually pretty good at turning a negative into a positive. It may simply be mental gymnastics on my part, but then again, what in life is not?

93. Where do I want to be next year at this time?

Sitting exactly where I am now, but greatful for a break in my unbearably hectic life.

94. How could I make my primary relationship more fulfilling, happier, meaningful and joyful?

I have GOT to get me one of them!

95. What is my best memory from this past year?

Seeing the website I built for my business launch. That was an accomplishment.

96. What was I hurt by this year? What did I learn from it?

There are a small group of people that I do not like. As I said, that no doubt says more about me than it does them so I'm glad that group is small. There is an equally small group of people that I think of as almost touched by God. I'm endlessly impressed by them. It's irrational, I know, but I realized that one person from the latter group has great respect for another person in the former group. I don't know why, but that realization stung.

97. What was my biggest regret of what I did or didn’t do this year?

I do not believe in regret.

98. What did I buy this year that I have not yet used–and probably won’t? And who can I give it to?

I bought a mini tripod that I'll probably never use. I'll probably just donate it to Howard Brown.

99. What systems did I put in place to become more effective, efficient and organized?

I started using Microsoft Outlook more effectively.

100. Have I been a taker or a giver this year? In what ways?

I think I can claim both titles. I've never been much of a taker, but sometimes the best way to give is to receive and I'm trying to be better about that.

Next year I'll probably use a different list of questions. These seemed to focus too much on the negative. But I think there's some value in taking a few minutes to reflect on the passing year and articulate those things that have been most important.

Have a happy and healthy new year!

Sweeney Todd

The problem in translating a musical to film is that by its very nature a musical is an auditory experience and film is a visual experience. The single biggest danger in the adaptation is guarding against sensory overload. Moulin Rouge, the film that spawned the movie musical renaissance, balanced this by giving us rich visuals that were supported by familiar pop tunes. The audience could listen on autopilot while digesting the visual. Last season's musical, Dreamgirls, struck the balance by being far less daring visually, because it was presenting new (or at least less familiar) music.

This year's musical blockbuster faces some steep challenges. Sweeney Todd is considered by many to be the zenith of the twentieth-century American musical. The score is lush and demanding on the audience. The lyrics are nuanced and brilliant. And it was conceived as full evening of theater, which gives an audience time to digest the work's complexity. The nature of modern movies requires a running time of less than two hours and relentless visual stimulation. The balance struck between material and medium in an adaptation of a musical of such magnitude has got to be razor sharp.

In many ways Tim Burton is successful with his adaptation. The score has been smartly honed and is presented at a brisk pace. Burton remains true to his visual style, which helps the audience in orienting itself to the overall experience. Still, Burton's style at times overwhelms the text, especially in the quieter scenes, and is not up to moments of higher style. The best number from the show "Try Some Priest," which is the peak of the live Sweeney experience, is flat on screen.

But ultimately, whether on the stage or screen, any piece lives or dies with the performers. And, in the final analysis, there's just no getting around the fact that Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter are not up to the demands of Sondheim's text.

Depp, fundamentally a brilliant film actor, is swathed in Burton artistry, glowering from layers of make-up and looking like a bitter, grown-up Edward Scissorhands. But it's his voice that fails the character. Sweeney doesn't require an operatic basso profundo, but it does demand a voice with some gravitas. Depp's reedy pop voice sounds like an over-tired boy bander and not a world-weary tragic figure. Finally, his performance is doomed by Burton's direction, which seems to have been to walk around like a zombie. The power of the material is completely lost if Sweeney isn't charming. The story becomes just another slasher film, this one set to music.

Bonham Carter, while a vocally a good match for Depp is also completely vocally inadequate for the role. Written for Angela Lansbury, herself not a great singer, the role demands vocal character. Lansbury has that in buckets. Character and distinction in the voice is what is demanded by Sondheim. Not a pretty face. Sadly, vocal development and distinction is completely lost from modern performer trainers. Time was that an actor had to communicate to the back row of the balcony. Then microphones made that unnecessary. Now, a performer seems to be required to do little more than move his lips in the same general pattern as the words on the pre-recorded track: a puppet show with a pulse.

However, Bonham Carter is not swamped by the style and actually delivers an interesting, nuanced performance. Her Mrs. Lovett is sexy and needy and calculating and loving and ruthless. It's a brilliant performance that simply fails vocally. Had she been given dialogue instead of lyrics, Bonham Carter's performance would walk away with an Oscar.

There are, however, three performances that stand out. Alan Rickman, always riveting, makes the lecherous Judge Turpin repulsive and absolutely worthy of his fate, as does Timothy Spall as Beadle Banford. However, the best voice comes in the package of the small boy, Ed Sanders, playing Tobey.

But none of these performers held the burden of supporting the Burton style, and at the end of the day that is where the problem lies. Sweeney Todd does not fail. It misses. I went in expecting a ten, and had to settle for a seven.

Have Yourself a Passive-Agressive Christmas

Christmas morning in Chicago was a beautiful spring morning, feeling more like April than December. The sun was shining and lawns were sheepishly blushing green -- the new Currier & Ives.

At the exact point of 9:00 a.m. my door buzzer rang. Who could it be? Christmas guests so early?

"Who is it?"

"FedEx."

"I'll be right down."

I'd made my family swear that they would not buy me any gifts. Five months of unemployment puts some restrictions on budgets and Christmas gifts unfortunately fall victim to such budget consciousness. But perhaps one of my family took pity on me and ignored my edict, sending something to arrive at the exact moment we would normally be sitting down to rip open gifts and bury the living room floor in shredded paper.

"What are you doing working this morning?"

"Right? Sign here."

He handed me a white fibre glass envelope. It was small. I checked the return address.

It was from my old job.

Could I have left something behind that was recently discovered? What on Earth could there be so important that they would pay the exorbitant fees to have something delivered on Christmas morning?

Inside was a small tin filled with almond cookies and a Christmas card, wishing me the very best of the season. From the company that laid me off in July.

What does one say in the thank-you note? "The cookies were delicious. Would have preferred a paycheck."

Or is that ungrateful?

The Unasked Question

Arianna Huffington has written an excellent essay regarding a questionnaire presented to the presidential candidates discussing the extent of executive privilege. All of the credible candidates have answered the questions. The answers are all very interesting and I believe should be read by every American before voting. It's a short questionnaire, so you should follow the link and read the answers.

While there are no real surprises in the answers, nor in who chose to answer the questionnaire and who did not, there is one question that just begs to be asked. I've yet to hear it posed, so I'm going to do so here.

"As president, if you believe that the current administration has overstepped its authority, and in fact taken actions that are expressly prohibited by the constitution, what punitive steps, if any are you prepared to take against members of the current administration in an effort to restore credibility and moral authority to the United States within the international community?"

If I ever get the chance to ask that question of a presidential candidate, I'm taking it.

Pushing Boundaries

I have very distinct memories of thinking about be flung into a lake of fire when I was little. First, my grandmother was a Seventh-Day Adventist. They basically believe that we are living in the End Days and that at any moment we will see Jesus's winged chariot cresting over the horizon in the east. Those who were saved would rise with Jesus into Heaven. And those who weren't...

This apparently did many colorful, screwy things with my mother's head. So, when it came time to baptize my sister and me, my mother went with my father's religion, and we went to the St. John's American Lutheran Church.

After the divorce, my sister and I spent weekends with my father, which meant my grandmother took us to Sunday school. I remember Mike F. We were the same age and when I lived with my father we were always in the same class. We also were in the same Sunday school class. I can't remember exactly what the lesson was, but I do remember thinking that it didn't make any sense. I think it had something to do with angels dancing on the head of a pin. And then I half remember a lesson where they were talking about marriage.

I raised my hand and asked, "What if a boy wants to marry a boy?"

"He can't."

The answer was as simple as that. I was probably about seven years old, because I remember some lecture about having reached the age of reason. Up until that point if we'd committed a sin, God automatically forgave us. But after the age of seven you were on your own (I think the teacher actually used those words) and if you sinned, you would have to beg for forgiveness. Sometimes there were things that God did not forgive, but I could never get a straight answer as to what those things were.

"Well, what if a boy wants to kiss a boy?"

"He can't."

And I remember, as clear as day, thinking, "I can't wait until I'm old enough to kiss someone. I'm going to kiss a boy and see what happens." The bell had rung, and the rest is history.

Growing up, I had crushes on lots of boys. At around the age of fifteen or so I started to get an idea of what those crushes were all about. But I lived in rural Iowa and already was tormented on a regular basis. The last thing I could do was kiss a boy.

But I had these feelings, and I kept trying to see how they could be wrong. They just didn't feel wrong. I thought about killing someone. That felt wrong. I thought about stealing something. That felt wrong. I thought about kissing a boy. No thunder claps, no burning bush. It felt natural.

It was years before I kissed a boy. As I look back on my litany of sins, there are many things I wish I'd done differently. Kissing a boy isn't one of them.

The Last Laugh

Last fall I was interviewed for two "good" jobs in the same week. Good pay, good companies. Lots of potential. In one case I had four interviews, only to be rejected in the typical, modern way. Told they would make a decision by Friday, allowed to wait thinking I would get the job, and then...silence. In the second case I only had two interviews, but I was rejected the next day via a form e-mail.

This past week, both jobs were advertised again.

Guess someone chose the wrong candidate.

No. I did not submit my resume.

P.S. I Love You

I'm a sucker for a romantic comedy. Even the bad ones, I see them all. So, today when I decided to treat myself to a movie there was no real choice. I went to the first showing of P.S. I Love You.

It's not a perfect film. I'm not a Hillary Swank fan. But this is a devastating film. Completely unexpected. While there's humor, this is definitely not a comedy.

And the soundtrack is brilliant. Buy it.

Shut Up Sherri Shepherd

Several weeks ago the country was in an uproar over Bill O'Reilly's comments about his visit to a restaurant in Harlem. Without quoting him directly, his comments did not included the "n-word," but they did convey all of the arrogance and condescension and latent hatred that the smile that usually accompanies that word in polite society cannot hide.

So, Sherri Shepherd goes on television and makes a statement that is equally as racist and loaded with latent hatred. How is this different?

Well, first we allow African American public figures to make racist statements. Western White Culture has a history of domination and hatred and on some level there's a sense that turn about is fair play. A white man calling a black woman a racist does not have the impact of a black woman calling a white man a racist. And it shouldn't.

But let's not kid ourselves. As a public figure on a national television show, Sherri Shepherd is hardly your average African American woman. Whatever her background and upbringing, the fact is she holds a position that the vast majority of America does not, and no doubt she is handsomely compensated for it. I'm sure it's safe to say that if she was typing memos someplace, or managing an IT department she would not be in the position of privilege she is today. It's a little disingenuous of her to refer to a "rich white-person's store."

Of course she's only using terms that many African Americans would have used, but its time that those terms are examined for the hatred that they contain. Is that systemic hatred justified? Yes. But hatred it is, and it warrants acknowledgement.

I Don't Heart Huckabee

Mike Huckabee is really starting the scare me. And deeply, deeply offend me.

First, I resent a potential world leader casually placing his own religious beliefs at the pinnacle of importance. Whether Mr. Huckabee realizes it or not, other religions have significant holiday celebrations at this time of year. And many of those religions have devout members who live in the United States. While it may be the most important thing to Mr. Huckabee and Christians to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ at this most wonderful time of the year, it is not of supreme importance to everyone else. And what about African Americans who may believe in Christ, but celebrate Kwanzaa?

As President of the United States, Mr. Huckabee would ostensibly represent the entire country and in matters that have little or nothing to do with religion. Now, unless he's willing to ride on a completely Christian platform and allow the first plank to be "What would Jesus do?" I'll thank him to keep his religion out of my politics. (Wouldn't that be interesting? To see a Christian candidate run on an actual Christian platform.)

But what was really frightening about Mr. Huckabee's ad is the ease and elegance with which he comfortably stepped in front of a camera with soft light and softer focus and singled out a segment of the American population as his chosen people. Now, he either approved that ad with full knowledge of how the rest of America would respond, and didn't care; or he put that ad together out of complete ignorance of the fact that it was divisive and offensive. Which approach is more frightening from a world leader?

I tend to believe that the ad was completely calculated and far more insidious than anything Karl Rove leashed upon the country. It's tempting to believe that the current nightmare will end with the end of the Bush administration, but I think there's a very real chance that it could become more nuanced with next administration -- whoever may head it.

But of course, both approaches demonstrates in many nuanced forms exactly why the rest of the world views America as arrogant and clueless. What is even more maddening is that such arrogance and blissful ignorance is wrapped up in a folksy avuncular persona and packaged as America's savior. Huckabee's ad might have been a winner if he had simply acknowledged that the Christians do not have a lock on December as a holy month. By invoking the dreaded "Happy Holidays" motif, or even better yet, emphasizing the season's message of peace and love, regardless of religious affiliation, Huckabee could have demonstrated that his administration truly could be a uniting force in the country and the world. That's what Jesus would have done.

Merry Christmas, indeed Mr. Huckabee.

Slowly Grinding Down

Last year was a big holiday year for my family. Because she simply will not fly, travel for my mother is difficult and dramatic. Last year she spent nearly five days traversing the country by Amtrak to get from northwest Iowa to Arizona for Christmas. Since she refused to get a hotel room for a stopover in Omaha, on both legs of the trip she spent an entire night alone in the Omaha bus terminal, and an entire day wandering the streets of Sioux City waiting for connecting trains and buses. Fortunately, she also had a stopover in Chicago and allowed me to take her in for that time, but the poor woman was nearly dead by the time she returned home.

So, it stands to reason that this holiday season would be low key. Add now to the mix the fact that both my mother and I are one very strict budgets and a big holiday blow-out for 2007 doesn't make sense.

And since I'm effectively unemployed, the holiday spirit has not seized me. I'm not a Scrooge, nor a Debbie Downer. This year I'm open to the concept of Christmas, it's just that the physicality of my world has shrunk to a few square blocks, and because one day seems pretty much like the last my sense of time is screwy. I'm repeatedly amazed that it's not still July.

But still, I can feel the world slowly grinding to a holiday halt. There are fewer jobs advertised. People are taking longer to respond to messages. Meetings and interviews aren't being scheduled for next week, but rather after the first of the year. At my old company I had arranged it so that the office would be closed all of next week.

There is a strong sense that every American will participate in the Christmas holidays, if for no other reason than there is simply no way to avoid it. I've had Jewish friends who went on vacation over Christmas and I always thought it odd that they would celebrate the holiday by going away. In point of fact, I now realize, they went away because there was nothing else to do.

Don't get me wrong: Christmas, both the religious and secular/commercial versions, are good things. A religious Christmas -- the concept of peace and love, contemplation of the Eternal -- I view as essential. A chimerical Christmas -- gifts, parties, social connecting and networking -- all play a function in people's lives. But it seems virtually impossible to opt out of the holidays. Even if you simply keep your head down, there are still cards in the mail. There are still Christmas commercials on television. There are those damn year-end-in-review articles everywhere you turn.

And there's a sense of renewal. It's almost like the planet does a little mini revolution within it's normal cycle and New Year's Day is also the first day of spring. Resolutions are made, calendars are started and everything seems fresh and new. Does anything feel more tired and out of date than a lit Christmas tree on January 2?

So, to those who are celebrating, have a happy holiday season. To those who are not, either lighten up or stop and smell the pine needles. The world will revolve more quickly again on January 2.

Rush Limbaugh Asks a Relevant Question

Rush Limbaugh wants to know if America wants to watch Hillary age, presumably he means the amount of media coverage she would receive as president. And the underlying implication being that her age somehow effects her abilities as president?

At first I was outraged at the headline. Just how sexist could that fat bigot be? But then I actually read the quote and took a breath and realized that it's a good question. Can America watch Hillary age? It's not a question of Hilliary trying to maintain a youthful appearance. God knows the last thing I want is for my president to be worried about Botox injections and chemical peels. It's more a question of can the American public accept the fact that a woman can maintain her relevance past the age of thirty.

Even the most accomplished women in the public eye have to at least be aware of their personal appearance, much more so than any man. Cleavage, dark roots, make-up, jewelry, hem length, heel height. None of these are issues that men have to question. Men have to decide: white shirt or blue? Striped tie or solid? Or if he's feeling really crazy does he go with a pattern?

For most of his life, most men are actually more prized as they age. On some visceral level it's assumed that a man becomes wiser as he ages. And if his looks diminish, the acquired wisdoms more than compensates him. Women are socially forbidden to evolve much past the age of thirty, and rarely recognized for being able to do anything more complicated than plan a wedding. Even today, a woman's chief value is measured by precisely how long she can sustain the illusion of youth. Jane Fonda turns seventy. "She looks fabulous." Judi Dench turns seventy. "She's a great actress." Who do you think stands a better chance of being on the cover of any publication in honor of her seventieth birthday? And what do you think the headline will read?

The Girl of Qatif

A young woman, age nineteen is traveling in a car with a young man to whom she is neither related nor married. For some reason the car is attacked by seven hoodlums, who rape both the girl and the man.

The girl is initially sentenced to "several months in prison" and ninety lashes because she was alone with the young man. She appealed the conviction -- and was sentenced to six months in prison and two hundred lashes.

Today the Saudi king pardoned the girl.

What is going unreported is the courage of the girl and the young man, to report the rapes and to press charges. If the girl was meted punishment, you can only imagine what sort of result the young man received.

Oh, and the rapists? They ultimately received sentences of two to ten years.

Being party to the rape of two people = 2 years
Being a woman alone with a man = 2 years
Saudi justice = priceless

This Too Shall Pass

Every now and then it's important for me to stop and realize that the current moment is not the sum total of my life. The existing situation is not the eternal situation, especially in my life.

And, at the risk of being smug, with each interview that I do I become more and more impressed with myself. In comparison to the general population, I've done some pretty impressive, interesting things. I'm always a little surprised at the reaction I get when I tell people that I did a show at Steppenwolf, that I've done two operas at the Lyric, that I taught myself how to build a website, that I'm completing a collection of short stories, and I'm outlining a novel. Hasn't everyone?

Apparently not.

And so, I go into an interview thinking I'm just an average schmoe who can clearly do a bang-up job and come out painfully aware that the interviewer thinks I'm over qualified. And that's after I've taken my humility pill.

Ah, to be fabulous and unemployed. But at least I'm interesting.

Voting

I live in Illinois. There is virtually no chance that Barak Obama will not carry the state in the primaries. In the event that hell freezes over and there is a strong challenger to him, Obama will get my vote.

However, if there is ever a chance to make a statement during a primary for another candidate, its when there is no real decision being made. I don't see a vote for a candidate who clearly is not going to win as a wasted vote. On the contrary: if in fact Obama does carry Illinois, I think a strong showing by any candidate other than Clinton is really a vote for a vice president.

So, with that in mind I've decided that if Obama is a virtual lock going into the primary, my vote is going to Edwards.

We need a statesman who is true to his personal code of ethics. We do not need another politician. Clinton is a politician and she should stay in the senate to assume the Kennedy mantle when he retires. An Obama/Edwards ticket, I think, represents a shift in leadership in this country. It's my generation's turn.

Creating

There's something interesting happening. Sometime in November my photography took a big leap in quality. My pictures became less tortured snapshots with sloppy lighting, and became portraits.

Today I went back to work on a short story, one of the first I've written since graduating. I'm struggling with it, but not in a bad way. It has depth and a lot of layers, many of which I didn't expect. My struggle is coming up with an ending that is good enough.

I've been so focused on logistical crap, I'd been neglecting my art. And I long ago discovered that its my art that feeds my soul. Without it, I'm nothing.

So, I have a collection of sixteen stories, all in various stages of development. My goal is to have a complete manuscript finished by the end of the year. The story I'm struggling with now is the greenest, and it's number six in the collection. Stories one through five are finished. But January 1, I start building my strategy for getting them to a publisher. Another new mountain to climb. And I already have my next novel bubbling in the back of my head. It's a little formulaic at this point, but I can't get distracted from the stories to work it out.

I had another interview over the phone, and have scheduled a face-to-face for next week. Just with a temp agency, but with my life at loose ends at the moment, that may be the best way to go.

Underneath all of the worry and angst about staring into the abyss, I know all will be well. What would life be if it was all routine and safe?

"We'll be in touch..."

I have never understood why people say they'll do something when they have absolutely no intention of following through. Is it better to be known as someone who does what he says, or someone who says what people want to hear, and then have to follow up with a litany of excuses for failing to follow through.

I am very easily lied to. If you tell me something, I will believe you. And I will hold you to your word. FOREVER. Now, I understand that circumstances change and there are times when promises simply cannot be kept. I'm a reasonable, rational person. Just tell me things have changed. Don't leave me hanging.

Yet, it just seems that more and more that silence is increasingly becoming an acceptable form of communication. In the past year, twice, I've had friends who've been rushed to the hospital. In both cases I sent them flowers while they were in the hospital. And in both cases, neither person acknowledged the flowers. I have sent professional requests to people, who simply ignore them. And these are people I see on a regular basis. They simply do not respond.

There was a time when I got upset about such things. But life is too short to waste on people who cannot master the basics of social intercourse, let alone professional courtesy. I simply move on.

Yesterday I met with a recruiter, who repeatedly told me how ethical he was. He viewed ours as a working partnership. I was to send him a revised copy of my resume and he was going to send me information on a job he thought I was right for.

Silence.

I had a phone interview yesterday with a recruiter, who was breathless at my qualifications. "Send me your resume! I want to talk to you about it over the phone." Resume sent. Promises that it would be forwarded to her manager and she'd get back to me today...

Silence.

I don't really take it personally. I'm quite confident that I'm not the only person they treat this way. But, they tell me to keep checking in with them on a weekly basis. So, I do. I completely ignore the fact that they haven't returned my calls. I leave light, charming messages once a week. And then, when I get a job and they contact me, wanting to work with me...

Silence.

Dreams

I frequently dream that I am back in my childhood home. When I was a kid and after my parents divorced, my mother moved around a lot. Part of the reason was wanderlust, and part of it was that she always thought a new location meant things would be different. They rarely were for very long. I have no doubt that being a single parent is the hardest thing in the world, and when things got overwhelming for my mother she'd pack one or both of us off to live with my father in his small house in a small town in Iowa. As a kid I lived many places, but I only had one home.

The house had originally been my grandmother's. It had been her little love cottage when she remarried late in life. The marriage didn't last long as Grandpa Emil was insane. She ditched the husband, but kept the house. Then when my father divorced, he moved in with Grandma. They shared the house until she died and he bought out his brother and sister.

It was a small, two-bedroom house that sat on a corner lot. It was pink when my Grandmother bought it, but she had it painted white, because that was the only respectable color for a house. I remember when she and my aunts hung new wallpaper in the dining room and living room. It was a green, almost Asian-grass print on three of the walls. On the fourth wall was a bold, gold floral print that took days to hang because the walls weren't square, which made matching the pattern difficult. I remember the day the new pull-out sofa and rocking chair were delivered. Both were immediately covered with coordinating beach towels, to keep them from becoming covered with cat hair.

After my Grandmother died, my father did what he could to maintain the interior of the house, but that really wasn't his interest. He liked to build things. He built fences that marked the division between our yard and the two neighboring yards. He put decorative green shutters on the house. There were at least two old tractor tires that he'd painted white and filled with dirt for flowers. And there was the gazebo.

While it was a corner lot, the official back yard was actually pretty small and Dad filled most of it up with the gazebo. It had originally been intended for picnics and for us to play in when the weather was bad, but it quickly became just a storage shed which Dad filled with bits of scavenged supplies for all of his home-improvement projects.

When we lived with Dad, my sister took over my grandmother's room, and I set up shop in the unfinished basement. If I remember correctly, my father did put down linoleum tile and there was a carpet remnant. It wasn't much, but I have to say that I loved that room. I could move things around, and in the winter the windows would be buried in snow, so the room was always dark. I remember the winter holidays and barricading myself in the basement with my stereo, the old TV, and my round, red transistor AM radio.

When my father died, we sold the house. It was nearly fifteen years before I ever went back. I don't know how many owners there had been since we'd lived there, but most of my father's improvements were gone, as was the enormous oak tree, the roots of which had broken up the sidewalk creating a mini bump that was just right to launch a speeding bike into the air. The house had a new roof, and the sun porch had been enclosed to expand the kitchen. Someone had painted the house brown.

Still, somewhere deep inside me I feel like we will all go back to that house to live. And I visit in my dreams. In my dreams, it's exactly as it always was on Christmas Eve. The tree lit, the floor strewn with torn wrapping paper, and a big pot of chicken and noodles on the stove. There are pounds of fudge in the refrigerator and fresh coffee in Grandma's new electric percolator. My mother, father, and grandmother are sitting at the kitchen table, visiting. And my sister and I would be in our rooms admiring our gifts.

The Worm Turns

Today I dropped the supplemental materials for my application to UIC into the mail, and I nearly had a panic attack in the post office. This application required a sample of academic writing, and a sample of fiction. While waiting in line with all of the people shipping Christmas gifts to the four corners of the Earth my stomach seized and I could hardly catch my breath. I suddenly became aware that I was pinning the hopes for my future on mediocrity. I've never even had the confidence to seriously try to have anything published and here I was submitting a patchwork paper and some shreds of short stories to be compared with the work of some of the brightest minds in the country. But, I turned up the volume on my iPod and went through with it. Nearly forty pages work are floating through the postal system and will land in a heap on someone's desk in a few days. And I will have to wait nearly ten weeks for an answer.

The panic attack was set off this morning when I printed up the required checklist that is supposed to accompany the writing samples. On the checklist, they ask for a list of all of my awards and distinctions. To be honest, I have so few, the list was quite short. I may have been on the dean's list as an undergrad. But, I've never published anything. I've won a couple of service awards, but they aren't really anything special. My GRE scores and my GPA are respectable, but not awe-inspiring. And the work I sent them was solid, but not great.

Yesterday I sent my supplemental packet to the University of Chicago, and I felt better about that. By the end of the week I'll have completed the monster of them all, the packet for Northwestern. Then I'll be done.

Of course, none of this is helped by being unemployed. I'm waiting to hear on two jobs, and I'm meeting yet another recruiter tomorrow. The clock is ticking. Unemployment runs out at the end of the month and then I'm on my own. Later this week I'm going to set up appointments to register with temp agencies and then I'm going to hunker down and wait for the decisions.

Waiting has never been my best skill. I start imagining all of the worst possible scenarios and I can work myself up into an almost hysteria. It might be easier if I drank, but I don't. The only way I can get through this is to take it one day at a time and work through each issue as it presents itself.

But, it's night time, and I'm getting ready to go to bed, which always the worst time. I'll go to sleep, and in the morning I'll feel better. It's a new day and anything can happen.

Treadmill

I have a set pattern of blogs that I rotate through. Some are intellectually edifying and some are entertaining. Some are very instructive.

Without naming names, there is one blog I had been reading because it sounded so much like me in my early twenties. The poor guy was going through hell and writing about it on his blog. Then this summer he stopped. He said he just needed some time to get his life together. Then, sort of out boredom I came across his blog again, and he'd started writing about a week ago. And it's the same crap. The. Same. Crap. Nothing has changed for this poor guy and he's going to continue on this treadmill for at least another decade.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we get into a loop of drama? Sometimes I think I'm lucky. I know what my loop is. Everything is about me. Every word, every action, every thought that every single person within my sphere of influence -- and that is vast -- has nothing better to do than to think up ways to slight and insult me. The world is full of people who hold secret conventions to discuss every little fault of mine. They are endlessly fascinated with all things that are me.

When that loop starts, there are times it can be brutal and destructive. And looking at past situations I can see there have been times that I have started the loop. There have been other times that random events have happened -- events that have had nothing to do with me -- yet fit very nicely into the loop and I allow myself to use those events as objective proof of my narcissistic, self-destructive little psychodramas.

It's sad, really.

But, lately I'm getting better at identifying the little dramas. Sometimes I can stop them, and sometimes I just have to let them run their course. Sometimes they're harmless and entertaining, but I have learned not to take any of them all that seriously.

Back when New Age was all the rage, I read a Buddhist philosophy that said something like, "Hold life lightly." It's taken me years to understand that, and sometimes I actually think I manage to do just that.

But my poor little blogger has not yet learned that lesson. I'll probably check in on him from time to time, just to make sure he doesn't chew his leg off to free himself from his treadmill, but I can't watch it on a regular basis. There's only room for one diva on this stage.

Living in the Moment

There's something to be said for stopping and enjoying a moment. Since the age of about five, when my parents divorced and I first asked the question, "What happens next?" I've made plans and outlined contingencies, preparing for what happens next.

And this morning I sit at my computer and I find that I don't care. It's not a fatalistic, oh-what's-the-use angst. It's more of a I'm-safe-and-content feeling. It's a feeling that there is something next and it really doesn't matter what because it will be fabulous no matter what it is.

These past few months have been very disjointed. As planned, in order to keep my mind off the fact that I'm unemployed I've kept myself very busy. Applying to PhD programs, building a website, taking pictures, sending out resumes, interviewing...they've all been components of very large, very different plans. In some ways it's been a frustrating time, filled with disappointments: that certain jobs didn't come through, that my writing wasn't going more smoothly, that I lacked confidence in my PhD applications. The list could go on.

But this morning, at this precise second as I type, there is a contentment. Things are good enough. Even the imperfections -- my messy workroom strewn with important papers and dustbunnies, the refrigerator that contains a stick of butter and ketchup, the ancient cat who will not shut up until I open exactly the right can of catfood -- they all seem to fit into a perfect picture. I don't know how else to say it. I'm happy.

Finis

The writing sample is complete. Flawed, but complete.

The problem is a familiar one for me. My eyes were bigger than my stomach, as my grandmother would have said. In twenty pages I try to assert a thesis that really is a great topic for a dissertation that could easily be ten times longer. Instead of being able to discuss how other writers have touched on my topic, I can only mention them in a brief paragraph and then move on. And instead of fully developing a point of minutiae, I've opted for indicating a sweeping new interpretation, and hinting that I have an understanding of the details.

I'm banking heavily upon the assurances from several professors that the paper does not have to publication ready. Because my paper is most definitely not.

Now, there just remains tackling my statement of purpose. I swear, I deserve a degree for simply completing the application processes.

The Wheels on the Bus Fall Off

I have long held the thought when it appears that everyone in the room is an asshole, chances are very good that there is only one asshole in the room and he can't be seen without the use of a mirror. Still, every now and then it's just possible that the room is filled with assholes.

Last July I was laid off. There were a lot of factors that went into that decision, but there was one little detail that sealed the deal. The board of directors held a secret vote of confidence on the CEO. They went to the three major revenue earners and asked if they had confidence in the CEO. They knew the question was coming. The CEO had foretold it. They had every reason to pledge their loyalty to the CEO. Yet all three of them stabbed in the back, ultimately for personal gain. Now one of them has resigned and the death knell for the company is ratcheted one decibel higher.

This earner knew exactly what he was doing. He had no reason to help the company to succeed. He benefits by its failure. But in so doing, he will have effectively put more than fifty people out of work.

Such selfishness is the essence of evil.

Now, understand that we're not talking about making a decision to either help keep a company afloat so or feed your children. We're talking about doing your job and honoring your commitments, or not buying the 2008 Landrover for your family's third car. There really isn't any moral ambiguity here. There is simply greed. As a result, people who devoted more than twenty years to building a company will be walking away with nothing, and one man walks away with a few thousand dollars that he's not even entitled to.