Know how sometimes someone else says it so much better than you ever could? This woman speaks so effectively about her path to discovery about what makes her feel well. It amuses me how over-achievers sometimes shoot themselves in the foot...
Living Within My Envelope: A How-To Story
By JoWynn Johns
[Note: The following article was written in November, 1998 and published in the March/April 1999 CFIDS Chronicle, the magazine of the CFIDS Association of America. The author is a graduate of the CFIDS Self-Help course. Before becoming disabled with CFIDS in 1993, she had developed a management consulting business following 25 years as a corporate executive.]
In a study of the "envelope theory" reported in The CFIDS Chronicle, Fall 1997, the researchers found that individualized treatment programs can help PWCs [People with CFIDS] achieve their optimal level of activity and manage their illness more effectively. "Living inside the envelope" sounds easy, but it hasn't been for me. Seven years I've had CFIDS and only now am I finally, mostly, living inside my envelope. It's been an arduous process of discovery and letting go.
Phase I: Keeping on with my life
When it comes to CFIDS, I am definitely a s-l-o-w learner. From early 1991 I was having increasing symptoms. Despite feeling awful, I continued my busy life. Convinced that exercise must be good for what ailed me, I was still working out five days a week. By mid-1992, though, it was getting harder and harder to carry on. I took more vacation time hoping that would help but without result. Neither daily meditation nor shiatsu massage helped, though the latter felt wonderful.
Phase II: All-out effort to get well
In January 1993, I finally collapsed, unable to stay upright. But did I stop "working"? Oh no; I simply transferred all my drive, determination, and ambition from earning a living to getting well. I tried everything that made sense to me, but made myself sicker in the process. For example, as soon as I had recovered a bit from that first crash, I resumed daily exercise, though I gave up running. I tried "power walking" an hour every day for several weeks until I collapsed again.
Thus began a pattern of exacerbation, forced rest, remission, return to activity, exacerbation, and so on. Between 1993 and 1997, I tried yoga, intensive meditation and visualization exercises, but experienced worse symptoms. I tried homeopathy with no result. I tried eating my main meal at noon and going to bed by 9:00 p.m. with no improvement in sleeping. I tried elimination diets; no change. I tried a macrobiotic diet, and had a bad exacerbation. Anti-depressants brought new and worse symptoms. Sleeping medications and melatonin magnified my sleep disorder.
The only thing that relieved my symptoms was bed-rest, but I couldn't believe I was sick enough to have to stay in bed. Over and over, as soon as I recovered somewhat, I tried to live a normal life. Little by little, though, I was being forced to reduce my activity further. I stopped house-cleaning. Then I stopped cooking. I stopped taking walks and I stopped shopping.
I became convinced that none of the strategies or treatments to which some people with CFIDS attributed their recovery would work for me. Gradually, I was shifting my focus from seeking to learn from others to paying more attention to myself and my own experience. And I stopped striving to recover. Instead, I began to pay more attention to myself and to listen to my body.
Phase III: Learning from my own body and experience
In February 1996 I broke two bones in my foot and was in a cast from my toes to my knee for seven weeks. The combination of heavy cast and lack of the strength immobilized me. Months later, when I was trying to make sense of my records, I realized that I had felt better during and for a few weeks after my immobilization than at any other time for over five years. That's when I decided I was going to find out, by carefully watching myself and keeping systematic records, what I had to do to feel better. Until then I had been recording my symptoms and noting when I felt worse. But in the fall of 1996 I decided to change the emphasis, vowing to identify the conditions associated with feeling better.
I began by developing my own definition of a "good" day. A good day for me is one in which I have minimal fatigue, muscle aching, or IBS--my most frequent symptoms; have no other symptoms from my repertoire of twenty-some; do not over-eat, which I'm driven to do by the drained emptiness of fatigue attacks; take a walk; and do artwork.
I also decided to focus on "good nights" as well, since sleep disorder is perhaps my most difficult problem. Lying awake for hours every night is harder to cope with than most other symptoms, it has persisted over time and it exacerbates other symptoms. Over time I discovered that if I stayed in bed, eyes closed and resting, long enough, I could usually get about seven hours of fragmented sleep. And when I got seven hours of sleep, I felt better the following day. I concluded that a good night was one in which I slept at least seven hours total; had refreshing sleep; and could lie awake resting peacefully, not agitated and frustrated. (A meditation practice and an eye pillow help tremendously. Even so, it took months to train myself to lie still while awaiting sleep.)
Good days and good nights are interdependent. After a good night, I'm more likely to have a good day. On days when I stay within my envelope, I'm more likely to have a restful rather than agitated night. Since I dread bad nights even more than bad days, this was a further incentive to discover my limits.
So then I asked, what do I have to do to have good days and good nights? After studying my journal and notes, I concluded that I must spend at least twelve hours a day in bed, resting, meditating, and sleeping; get at least seven hours of sleep; stay at home; restrict my daily activity to personal hygiene, climbing two flights of stairs in our three-story house, and walking about a mile; care for houseplants only when able to; work at the PC no more than an hour at a time; have no visits or long phone conversations; and do artwork.
This is my envelope. Staying inside it, I have the least fatigue and other symptoms and I feel as good as possible. That doesn't mean I don't exceed these limits. I do, and I pay for it.
Phase IV: Developing a feedback system
Having established criteria for good days and nights and having clarified what I need to do to achieve them, I then worked out my record-keeping system. I use a monthly planning calendar with two-inch square blocks for each day on which to indicate the good days and nights. I also note my activities and symptoms each day. Color coding with hi-liters enables me to see readily how I'm doing during the month. I find this kind of visible feedback motivating. I want to do what I have to do to show more violet (good) days and nights.
To see trends over the year, I graph my monthly percentages of good days and nights. On a calendar for the year, I put colored dots to show the days on which I experienced stress--visits, phone conversations, unusual activity, or other exertion. The correlation between clusters of dots on the calendar and the ups and downs of the percentages of good days on the graphs is very apparent. I also chart my sleep pattern daily. I needed to make this information visible to prove to myself the effects of mental and emotional exertion, as well as physical activity.
I also wanted concrete evidence of the effects of staying inside my envelope. Because limiting my life in this way is so very hard for me to do, I had to show myself that it was worth it.
Phase V: Accepting my envelope
Analysis of several years' notes showed me that mental and emotional exertion provoked symptoms as much as physical activity. In fact, I may suffer more symptoms following an hour's conversation than after walking in silence for an hour. It's not that I had never noticed the effects of being around people. It's that this is not a fact I wanted to admit.
For several years, while cutting back on physical activities, I could not accept and acknowledge my intolerance for interacting with people or the physical pain I have after mental exertion. I was not prepared to give up visits, especially with grandchildren, and phone conversations with family and friends. I didn't want to limit my work at the PC. Doing so for the past year, though, has shown me what a difference solitude, silence, and inactivity make in my well-being. Fortunately, my loved ones are supportive. Fortunately, too, and to my surprise, I have found how contented I can be in seclusion.
This is not a prescription for anyone else. It is simply what I have learned about what I need to do to feel better.
Results
So how am I doing? In 1996, a retrospective analysis showed I had 36% good days. In 1997, I aimed for over 50% good days and achieved that. My experience in 1998 has not been as good due to the stress associated with my Social Security Disability Insurance claim (which was finally granted almost three years after my initial application) and a major relocation from our home to a retirement community--a great change in living situation. Nevertheless, I have had three months this year of better than 70% good days, so I know what's possible.
My records for the past three years assure me that I am finally doing what I have to do to accommodate CFIDS. More importantly, during this period, I have had eight separate months with over 60% good days and I can account for the bad months. I know what I did or what happened that exacerbated my symptoms.
I've also learned that it is possible, by staying inside my envelope consistently for weeks at a time, not only to have no crashes, but to have exceptionally good days when I feel almost well. I've achieved more stability; I'm less victimized by the turmoil of the exacerbation-remission roller coaster.
Summary and Conclusions
In summary, I have established my own criteria for assessing my days (and nights, because nights are so problematic for me) so that I could identify good ones. I clarified what I have to do to have good days and nights. In other words, I described my envelope. I developed a record-keeping system (calendars, graphs, and charts) that help motivate me to stay inside my envelope. As a result, I am feeling much better and I am living with CFIDS much better.
As I review my story, I ask "Why could I not see for so long and accept what I had to do?" I think it's because it was so hard to make feeling good my top priority. Believing I should just soldier on no matter how I suffered, I was not able to insist on what I needed to make me feel better. I was not willing to make the changes, to give up so much that was dear to me and central to my self-image. I wanted and was determined to continue my normal life when CFIDS was insistently demanding that I live differently.
To feel good, I have to be so unlike myself: self-indulgent, irresponsible, lazy. It seems clear to me now that living "normally" is not good for me, but I also know that I can live well with CFIDS in body, mind and spirit.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Monday, September 14, 2009
Ultram and Me
My cell phone rings. I roll over and peer, one-eyed, at my alarm clock. 3:45 am. The phone rings again, playing some dopey tune I programmed specially for someone, but I can’t remember who. I lift it with the one hand not entangled in my velvety sheets.
“Ice Dad,” says the screen, all innocent. As if Ice Dad has any business calling me from Portugal at 3:45 am. Someone must have died, I think. I answer it.
“Hello?” I hear nothing. “Hello? Dad?” Background noise. Won’t Dad be pleased to hear his pocket called me, to the tune of $1.75 a minute, with that fancy European inclusive plan of his. I hang up, setting the phone back on the nightstand in easy reach, in case he really wanted to talk to me.
I roll over on my back, looking at the levered city shadows on the ceiling, listening to the sounds of pre-pre-dawn on Sackett St. Someone rummages through the recycle bins for deposit-worthy items. They roll away trailing a squeaky cart. A truck rolls loudly by. A giggle erupts from the last patron at the sports bar around the corner. Someone must have hung out in front even well after it closed. After a week of sleeping in the woods in a tent, all these things sound peculiar to my ear.
I’ll probably have to use the bathroom, now, I think. I do my usual woken-in-the-middle-of-the-night scan of my body to see what it says. I’m dizzy and I itch all over, says my body.
But I. Feel. Wonnnnderful!
What?
Oh, the Ultram. After giving up the one drug which ever made a dent in my pain due to its annoying side effects, (namely nausea, constipation and – shall me just say high -ness), I gave it another try last night. A week of sleeping on the ground, followed by 10 hours in the car and going back to work today just about ground me into dust. I needed a drug. Something good.
What, you don’t have to pee? I say to my still half-slumbering corporal self. Oh, maybe that, says my body. Maybe in a minute… I’m not desperate. But, um, hey Niki wake up! Did I mention I don’t hurt anywhere? I. Feel. Wonnnn-
Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don’t get used to it.
But it is Heaven. I imagine all the vastness of the universe twinkling inside me, in the new space opened up in my body between the sinews, within the joints, inside each cell, at the ends of bones. I took that pill 8 hours ago and I still feel this way. That may be a good thing or a bad thing..
Hey, Hey Niki look at this! My body rolls over to a seldom used position for sleeping because it puts too much pressure on my left hip. Wow, I think, very good, that’s impressive. And check this out! Another position. I feel like I could stay here for hours.
I scratch at another itch on my left forearm. I gave this drug up as a daily thing for everything but the itching. I’d always been so high I’d basically forgotten about the itching. Maybe I’m actually allergic to it. Maybe I feel so good I don’t care.
My body is busy luxuriating in yet another position, not because it had to but because it wanted to try out another one.
You know you’re high, right?
Hell, Yeah! I. Feel. Wooonnnnn-
Go back to sleep.
And I do, and it’s dreamless.
“Ice Dad,” says the screen, all innocent. As if Ice Dad has any business calling me from Portugal at 3:45 am. Someone must have died, I think. I answer it.
“Hello?” I hear nothing. “Hello? Dad?” Background noise. Won’t Dad be pleased to hear his pocket called me, to the tune of $1.75 a minute, with that fancy European inclusive plan of his. I hang up, setting the phone back on the nightstand in easy reach, in case he really wanted to talk to me.
I roll over on my back, looking at the levered city shadows on the ceiling, listening to the sounds of pre-pre-dawn on Sackett St. Someone rummages through the recycle bins for deposit-worthy items. They roll away trailing a squeaky cart. A truck rolls loudly by. A giggle erupts from the last patron at the sports bar around the corner. Someone must have hung out in front even well after it closed. After a week of sleeping in the woods in a tent, all these things sound peculiar to my ear.
I’ll probably have to use the bathroom, now, I think. I do my usual woken-in-the-middle-of-the-night scan of my body to see what it says. I’m dizzy and I itch all over, says my body.
But I. Feel. Wonnnnderful!
What?
Oh, the Ultram. After giving up the one drug which ever made a dent in my pain due to its annoying side effects, (namely nausea, constipation and – shall me just say high -ness), I gave it another try last night. A week of sleeping on the ground, followed by 10 hours in the car and going back to work today just about ground me into dust. I needed a drug. Something good.
What, you don’t have to pee? I say to my still half-slumbering corporal self. Oh, maybe that, says my body. Maybe in a minute… I’m not desperate. But, um, hey Niki wake up! Did I mention I don’t hurt anywhere? I. Feel. Wonnnn-
Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don’t get used to it.
But it is Heaven. I imagine all the vastness of the universe twinkling inside me, in the new space opened up in my body between the sinews, within the joints, inside each cell, at the ends of bones. I took that pill 8 hours ago and I still feel this way. That may be a good thing or a bad thing..
Hey, Hey Niki look at this! My body rolls over to a seldom used position for sleeping because it puts too much pressure on my left hip. Wow, I think, very good, that’s impressive. And check this out! Another position. I feel like I could stay here for hours.
I scratch at another itch on my left forearm. I gave this drug up as a daily thing for everything but the itching. I’d always been so high I’d basically forgotten about the itching. Maybe I’m actually allergic to it. Maybe I feel so good I don’t care.
My body is busy luxuriating in yet another position, not because it had to but because it wanted to try out another one.
You know you’re high, right?
Hell, Yeah! I. Feel. Wooonnnnn-
Go back to sleep.
And I do, and it’s dreamless.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Believe it or not, Colin won tickets to the Mountain Jam festival this weekend!
Let me share my little bit of joy...
My partner, Colin turned 40 this month. He's been really bummed about it, being not where he wants to be in his career, and seeing growth in the belly and not so much on the top of the head, etc.
Colin loves a singer named Micheal Franti. This guy is a real activist with singing - he went to Iraq and all over the Middle East with his guitar, just singing peace and love, you know.
We saw Micheal was playing at the Jazz festival in New Orleans, a city that's very special to Colin. (he grew up in Pensacola, three hours away, and kicked back many a good cocktail there.) We bought plane tickets and made hotel reservations, hoping for a nice balm to colin's small mid-life, uh, downward correction.
Then the economy totally tanked. Colin has worked a total of maybe 7 days in 2009. His work went bye-bye with Citibank. With my illness, we have about 3/4 of one job between us.
We cancelled New Orleans, ate $150 each per ticket (which cost only $220 in the first place), and sat at home and made rice noodles instead of paying for a hotel.
Knowing Micheal travels, we checked out his touring schedule and saw that he's playing -not once, but twice!- at the Mountain jam Festival in Hunter Mountain, NY this weekend. We figured a trip to someplace drivable would be cheaper. And we could camp. We made a reservation for the campsite - and paid for it.
Still, as the festival approached we looked askance at the $89 one-day tickets. Should we cancel yet another musical adventure? Where is mortgage and rent going to come from June 1?
Then Colin twisted his ankle - badly - in his first "sports photography-related" injury (he was taking pics of an old-fashioned baseball game and tripped. Go figure.) Did we really want to drive up there, camp and have him hobble all over, to the cost of over 100 bucks each?
Then one day last week we were listening to the radio in the car - we always listen as far as we can on the way upstate, because we don't get much radio at our house - WDST out of woodstock would be giving away tickets all weekend!
So we made our calling plan. Saturday we couldn't be near a radio or wi-fi. But Sunday we called several times, only to get busy signals. We mastered the repetitive dialing technique on our cell phones - which also barely work up there - to dial at least once every 10 seconds - that's one call every 5 seconds between the two of us. We just had to get through.
On Monday we realized because we were listening to the radio on line, there was a delay, but we didn't know how long. So when we felt they were about to offer tickets, we started calling.
I got ring tone instead of a dial tone! Excitement! Then I heard the contest announced - the 8th caller would get free tix! Finally some guy came on the line and said, "you're number 2, keep trying!" Was it the DJ? I jumped up and down like a maniac. "Call! call!" I demanded of Colin, who of course already was.
We both continued pressing "end" and "send" on our phones as fast as we could. We dialed and dialed. It was like junior high, all over again. Except i think neither of us really had the guts to talk to a DJ in Jr. High. We both got busy signals. I began to suspect the whole contest was a sham.
Then i heard Colin saying, in matter-of-fact tones, "why, no, I haven't won anything from WDST in the past 30 days."
Did he win? did he? Then I see him hustling, as fast as his limpy leg will carry him, out the front door and onto the very edge of the deck. He's lost his Stage Manager Voice, as I call it. "Wait! Sorry, hold on, I'm up in Fleischmanns, I have bad reception!"
Oh, noooo! Was he caller #8, only to be doomed by the fact that the Verizon tower is behind the hill and in Spring the leaves are sooo beautiful, but their blooming hinders the already wimpy signal?
But the call stayed true. And Colin did a victory hop on the deck, screaming, "I've been trying to do this for at least 20 years! I won! I won! I won!"
And thus, my friends, your energy, spun with fate and a little determination on our part, has brought our household...not a good landlord, not the perfect job, not a miracle cure to my illness...but maybe the thing in the world which would actually cheer us most. FREE tickets to the Hunter Mountain Jam at Hunter Mountain this weekend.
And good things come in threes. Then we came home, and there was a new tree planted in front of our building in Brooklyn. A Japanese something-or-other. (Colin had called 311 and requested one months ago through the "Million trees NYC" Program, like, ages ago...) Really? A tree? In front of our slum building?
And ...we brought a bike home from upstate, (a donation from my dad, who happens to be about Colin's size,) and locked it up with a good, sturdy lock and hope to get it tuned up at Bespoke Bicycles in Ft. green within the week.
Thank you all for reading in. Sunday I'll be in my tie-dye stringy dress with a happy Colin and yodeling Micheal Franti. Should keep me from getting too caught up in being poor and old.
Bless!
Niki
Let me share my little bit of joy...
My partner, Colin turned 40 this month. He's been really bummed about it, being not where he wants to be in his career, and seeing growth in the belly and not so much on the top of the head, etc.
Colin loves a singer named Micheal Franti. This guy is a real activist with singing - he went to Iraq and all over the Middle East with his guitar, just singing peace and love, you know.
We saw Micheal was playing at the Jazz festival in New Orleans, a city that's very special to Colin. (he grew up in Pensacola, three hours away, and kicked back many a good cocktail there.) We bought plane tickets and made hotel reservations, hoping for a nice balm to colin's small mid-life, uh, downward correction.
Then the economy totally tanked. Colin has worked a total of maybe 7 days in 2009. His work went bye-bye with Citibank. With my illness, we have about 3/4 of one job between us.
We cancelled New Orleans, ate $150 each per ticket (which cost only $220 in the first place), and sat at home and made rice noodles instead of paying for a hotel.
Knowing Micheal travels, we checked out his touring schedule and saw that he's playing -not once, but twice!- at the Mountain jam Festival in Hunter Mountain, NY this weekend. We figured a trip to someplace drivable would be cheaper. And we could camp. We made a reservation for the campsite - and paid for it.
Still, as the festival approached we looked askance at the $89 one-day tickets. Should we cancel yet another musical adventure? Where is mortgage and rent going to come from June 1?
Then Colin twisted his ankle - badly - in his first "sports photography-related" injury (he was taking pics of an old-fashioned baseball game and tripped. Go figure.) Did we really want to drive up there, camp and have him hobble all over, to the cost of over 100 bucks each?
Then one day last week we were listening to the radio in the car - we always listen as far as we can on the way upstate, because we don't get much radio at our house - WDST out of woodstock would be giving away tickets all weekend!
So we made our calling plan. Saturday we couldn't be near a radio or wi-fi. But Sunday we called several times, only to get busy signals. We mastered the repetitive dialing technique on our cell phones - which also barely work up there - to dial at least once every 10 seconds - that's one call every 5 seconds between the two of us. We just had to get through.
On Monday we realized because we were listening to the radio on line, there was a delay, but we didn't know how long. So when we felt they were about to offer tickets, we started calling.
I got ring tone instead of a dial tone! Excitement! Then I heard the contest announced - the 8th caller would get free tix! Finally some guy came on the line and said, "you're number 2, keep trying!" Was it the DJ? I jumped up and down like a maniac. "Call! call!" I demanded of Colin, who of course already was.
We both continued pressing "end" and "send" on our phones as fast as we could. We dialed and dialed. It was like junior high, all over again. Except i think neither of us really had the guts to talk to a DJ in Jr. High. We both got busy signals. I began to suspect the whole contest was a sham.
Then i heard Colin saying, in matter-of-fact tones, "why, no, I haven't won anything from WDST in the past 30 days."
Did he win? did he? Then I see him hustling, as fast as his limpy leg will carry him, out the front door and onto the very edge of the deck. He's lost his Stage Manager Voice, as I call it. "Wait! Sorry, hold on, I'm up in Fleischmanns, I have bad reception!"
Oh, noooo! Was he caller #8, only to be doomed by the fact that the Verizon tower is behind the hill and in Spring the leaves are sooo beautiful, but their blooming hinders the already wimpy signal?
But the call stayed true. And Colin did a victory hop on the deck, screaming, "I've been trying to do this for at least 20 years! I won! I won! I won!"
And thus, my friends, your energy, spun with fate and a little determination on our part, has brought our household...not a good landlord, not the perfect job, not a miracle cure to my illness...but maybe the thing in the world which would actually cheer us most. FREE tickets to the Hunter Mountain Jam at Hunter Mountain this weekend.
And good things come in threes. Then we came home, and there was a new tree planted in front of our building in Brooklyn. A Japanese something-or-other. (Colin had called 311 and requested one months ago through the "Million trees NYC" Program, like, ages ago...) Really? A tree? In front of our slum building?
And ...we brought a bike home from upstate, (a donation from my dad, who happens to be about Colin's size,) and locked it up with a good, sturdy lock and hope to get it tuned up at Bespoke Bicycles in Ft. green within the week.
Thank you all for reading in. Sunday I'll be in my tie-dye stringy dress with a happy Colin and yodeling Micheal Franti. Should keep me from getting too caught up in being poor and old.
Bless!
Niki
Monday, October 6, 2008
Aspen or Bust
I'm still tinkering with it, but here's what I've been doing instead of updating my blog - a little picture diary of our trip to Colorado. A bit o' mountain scenery to roll us into fall:
http://web.me.com/nikifun
Peace,
Niki
http://web.me.com/nikifun
Peace,
Niki
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The Boogey Man
I've been traveling a lot lately, and inevitably one of the first questions people ask when first meeting me, or friends ask when they haven’t seen me in a while is, “so are you performing in anything?”
I’m always a little embarrassed. Well, not really. Not right now. I’m on a break, I say, And everyone nods as though they understand. Truly, most artists do. But while how I explain it for mass consumption is one thing, how I explain it to myself is another. Is “taking a break” tantamount to failure? If I’m not actively pursuing work in my craft, why am I even in New york?
First of all, lots of actors take "breaks" throughout their careers. Sanity breaks, financial health breaks, breather from the “biz” burnout breaks, physical health breaks. I'm currently on all four kinds.
But also, I'm looking at it this way: I have come to NY and opened a door. If that door had remained shut, I always , always would have wondered what was behind it. It was like the door the kids at church told me the Boogey Man lived behind in the basement. But I opened it, I walked around inside the New York theater scene, and now it should never close. It's like going to college - no one can ever take an education away from you.
I can return whenever and if ever I choose. Maybe I won't. Or maybe I do some things here and there. Or maybe I even want a full time career in 20 years. Whatever it is, I now have fleshed out my resume with NY and regional credits, and I've gotten my equity card, so auditioning in the future should not be the huge hassle it was when I first made my move, and in general, I just know my way around the room.
For many actors, during a “break,” maybe that room becomes the one in the house you never use. Maybe it becomes the rec room ("I perform just for fun and exercise"), or the storage room ("ah, I remember it well..."), the guest room ("I sing just for friends' weddings"). In many cases it becomes the kids' room ("my children fill up that need for creativity I once had for the arts..."). In any case, at least it's not a vacuous cavern in your house you were afraid to enter because, well, the Bogey Man lived in there.
I did, I thought the Boogy Man lived in New York. And I was right, the boogy man DOES live in New York! New York is big, smelly, dirty, loud, smelly, dusty and intensely competitive, just like they told me. But also warm, and colorful, smart, discerning, freakish and creative and pulsing and human. Oh, so human. I can't think of a more human place to live. And that's what the Boogey Man is; fear of our own humanity.
So let’s talk about you.
I’m always a little embarrassed. Well, not really. Not right now. I’m on a break, I say, And everyone nods as though they understand. Truly, most artists do. But while how I explain it for mass consumption is one thing, how I explain it to myself is another. Is “taking a break” tantamount to failure? If I’m not actively pursuing work in my craft, why am I even in New york?
First of all, lots of actors take "breaks" throughout their careers. Sanity breaks, financial health breaks, breather from the “biz” burnout breaks, physical health breaks. I'm currently on all four kinds.
But also, I'm looking at it this way: I have come to NY and opened a door. If that door had remained shut, I always , always would have wondered what was behind it. It was like the door the kids at church told me the Boogey Man lived behind in the basement. But I opened it, I walked around inside the New York theater scene, and now it should never close. It's like going to college - no one can ever take an education away from you.
I can return whenever and if ever I choose. Maybe I won't. Or maybe I do some things here and there. Or maybe I even want a full time career in 20 years. Whatever it is, I now have fleshed out my resume with NY and regional credits, and I've gotten my equity card, so auditioning in the future should not be the huge hassle it was when I first made my move, and in general, I just know my way around the room.
For many actors, during a “break,” maybe that room becomes the one in the house you never use. Maybe it becomes the rec room ("I perform just for fun and exercise"), or the storage room ("ah, I remember it well..."), the guest room ("I sing just for friends' weddings"). In many cases it becomes the kids' room ("my children fill up that need for creativity I once had for the arts..."). In any case, at least it's not a vacuous cavern in your house you were afraid to enter because, well, the Bogey Man lived in there.
I did, I thought the Boogy Man lived in New York. And I was right, the boogy man DOES live in New York! New York is big, smelly, dirty, loud, smelly, dusty and intensely competitive, just like they told me. But also warm, and colorful, smart, discerning, freakish and creative and pulsing and human. Oh, so human. I can't think of a more human place to live. And that's what the Boogey Man is; fear of our own humanity.
So let’s talk about you.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Play that funky music white boy..
Colin's recent article about a Green event has been picked up with some funny tag lines... http://www.independentpoliticalreport.com/2008/08/white-boy-goes-hip-hop-with-rosa/
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Are conservatives more likely to forward false emails?
I'm going to start keeping a tally of all the things I get forwarded to me which are based on, or contain, absolutely false information.
For instance, the essay below was not written by Jay Leno. It's going around the internet as penned by him, (or by David Letterman, depending on which version you get) in order to make us like it better, having been written by a well liked and well known comedian.
It doesn't need the "teaser" line ("Jay Leno wrote this; it's the Jay Leno we don't often see....") - which is pure hogwash - because it's a good essay, and it makes a good point. But the premise is false. Untruth. Wrong. Misleading. Factually inaccurate. Lies.
Nowadays, pretty much anybody in the U.S. can go to snopes.com or any number of internet sources to double check on stories they get on the internet. But what I'm really interested in is the sociological question - why a certain swath of the population is willing to forward on emails without checking them for facts?
I only get these from my Dad, his girlfriend, my mom, my aunt, and a couple of friends. What do all these people in my life have in common? All conservative.
I'd be loathe to make the connection, (I like to think of myself as a political "independent,") except that several of my friends have pointed out the same pattern in their own families.
Maybe it's a generational thing. Older people are more likely to be conservative. And perhaps older people are, by nature, less - jaded - than those of us who have grown up learning about politics from the controversy of Vietnam and lies and intrigues of Nixon. They believe things. While we believe in - nothing.
Are people who are politically or religiously conservative, by nature, naive? Do they believe anything they see in writing?
I can't believe that of my dad, the ever-present cynic, always rattling around in my own head. Are they lazy? Don't see that quality in anyone on my "conservative" list. Unintelligent? Undiscerning? Conniving? Nada, nada, nada. They're all smart, informed, driven, well intentioned people.
So why don't they check out their information?
I'm puzzled. I get forwards from my more liberal friends and relatives all the time, and while they can certainly be biased, they never make fear-mongering, false blanket statements like this: (in gigantic lettering) "Windfall Tax on Retirement Income! Hold on to your pocketbooks!! Nancy Pelosi wants a Windfall Tax on Retirement Income. This woman is a nut case! You aren't going to believe this!"
(Incidentally my more liberal friends also seem more familiar with the use of the "bcc:" button, which prevents every single person you send the email to from receiving a full list of everyone-you've-sent-it-to's email address. We who use the bcc: tend to get annoyed with those who don't because all it takes is for one person 100 "forwards" later to get your address, and suddenly your inbox is inundated with SPAM for months.)
Spreading gossip and lies is something we all grew up aiming to avoid, and if that's all that was wrong here I guess I could put a lid on it. What worries me is the larger implications of how people make decisions. People act and speak - and vote- based on the false information they get - by word of mouth, on TV, in magazines, and yes, by email.
There's a human tendency to believe something even more when we see it in writing than when we hear about it some other way. "It is written" is written on the backs of our brains for all eternity as something tantamount to fact.
I spend a good deal of my political focus teetering on a wire between two of the best current-events informed people I know - my conservative father and my liberal boyfriend. One day I started looking at their sources - websites, magazines newspapers - and was shocked to see that not only were their sources biased, they were often getting fed, by their sources, absolutely conflicting FACTUAL information. Numbers, quotes, details of incidents which shape the history of the future. Factually different.
I assigned them both a week of looking at one another's sources. Neither of them took me up on it.
We keep getting these emails. And sending them. And watching the TV news, and listening to the radio talk shows and reading the magazines which say things we agree with.
What's going on? ???
Enjoy this essay - mostly by author Craig R. Smith - below.
As most of you know I am not a President Bush fan, nor have I ever been, but this is not about Bush, it is about us, as Americans, and it seems to hit the mark.
The other day I was reading Newsweek magazine and came across some Poll data I found rather hard to believe. It must be true given the source, right?
The Newsweek poll alleges that 67 percent of Americans are unhappy with the direction the country is headed and 69 percent of the country is unhappy with the performance of the President.
In essence 2/3 of the citizenry just ain't happy and want a change. So being the knuckle dragger I am, I started thinking, 'What are we so unhappy about?''
A.. Is it that we have electricity and running water 24 hours a day, 7 Days a week?
B.. Is our unhappiness the result of having air conditioning in the summer and heating in the winter?
C.. Could it be that 95.4 percent of these unhappy folks have a job?
D. Maybe it is the ability to walk into a grocery store at any time and see more food in moments than Darfurhas seen in the last year?
E.. Maybe it is the ability to drive our cars and trucks from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean without having to present identification papers as we move through each state?
F.. Or possibly the hundreds of clean and safe motels we would find along the way that can provide temporary shelter?
G.. I guess having thousands of restaurants with varying cuisine from around the world is just not good enough either.
H. Or could it be that when we wreck our car, emergency workers show up and provide services to help all and even send a helicopter to take you to the hospital.
I.. Perhaps you are one of the 70 percent of Americans who own a home.
J.. You may be upset with knowing that in the unfortunate case of a fire, a group of trained firefighters will appear in moments and use top notch equipment to extinguish the flames, thus saving you, your family, and your belongings.
K.. Or if, while at home watching one of your many flat screen TVs, a burglar or prowler intrudes, an officer equipped with a gun and a bullet-proof vest will come to defend you and your family against attack or loss.
L.. This all in the backdrop of a neighborhood free of bombs or militias raping and pillaging the residents. Neighborhoods where 90% of teenagers own cell phones and computers.
M.. How about the complete religious, social and political freedoms we enjoy that are the envy of everyone in the world?
Maybe that is what has 67% of you folks unhappy.
< /b>
Fact is, we are the largest group of ungrateful, spoiled brats the world has ever seen. No wonder the world loves the U.S. , yet has a great disdain for its citizens. They see us for what we are. The most blessed people in the world who do nothing but complain about what we don't have, and what we hate about the country instead of thanking the good Lord we live here.
I know, I know What about the president who took us into war and has no plan to get us out? The president who has a measly 31 percent approval rating? Is this the same president who guided the nation in the dark days after 9/11? The president that cut taxes to bring an economy out of recession?
Could this be the same guy who has been called every name in the book for succeeding in keeping all the spoiled ungrateful brats safe from terrorist attacks? The commander in chief of an all-volunteer army that is out there defendi ng you and me?
Did you hear how bad the President is on the news or talk show? Did this news affect you so much, make you so unhappy you couldn't take a look around for yourself and see all the good things and be glad? Think about it......are you upset at the President because he actually caused you personal pain OR is it because the 'Media' told you he was failing to kiss your sorry ungrateful behind every day.
Make no mistake about it.
The troops in Iraq and Afghanistan have volunteered to serve, and in many cases may have died for your freedom. There is currently no draft in this country. They didn't have to go. They are able to refuse to go and end up with either a ''general'' discharge, an 'other than honorable'' discharge or, worst case scenario, a ''dishonorable'' discharge after a few=2 0days in the brig.
So why then the flat-out discontentment in the minds of 69 percent of Americans?
Say what you want but I blame it on the media. If it bleeds it leads and they specialize in bad news. Everybody will watch a car crash with blood and guts. How many will watch kids selling lemonade at the corner? The media knows this and media outlets are for-profit corporations. They offer what sells, and when criticized, try to defend their actions by 'justifying' them in one way or another. Just ask why they tried to allow a murderer like O.J. Simpson to write a book about how he didn't kill his wife, but if he did he would have done it this way......Insane!
Turn off the TV, burn Newsweek, and use the New York Times for the bottom of your bird cage. Then start being grateful for all we have as country. There is exponentially more good than bad. We are among the most blessed people on Earth and should thank God several times a day, or at least be thankful and appreciative.' 'With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, 'Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?'
Jay Leno
Please keep this in circulation. There are so many people who need to read this and grasp the truth of it.
=
Attached Message
From: Susan Waters To: Colleen ; Dale White Subject: Date: Wed, 16 Jul 2008 18:30:09 -0500
Jay Leno wrote this; it's the Jay Leno we don't often see....
As most of you know I am not a President Bush fan, nor have I ever been, but this is not about Bush, it is about us, as Americans, and it seems to hit the mark.
The other day I was reading Newsweek magazine and came across some Poll data I found rather hard to believe. It must be true given the source, right?
The Newsweek poll alleges that 67 percent of Americans are unhappy with the direction the country is headed and 69 percent of the country is unhappy with the performance of the President.
In essence 2/3 of the citizenry just ain't happy and want a change. So being the knuckle dragger I am, I started thinking, 'What are we so unhappy about?''
A.. Is it that we have electricity and running water 24 hours a day, 7 Days a week?
B.. Is our unhappiness the result of having air conditioning in the summer and heating in the winter?
C.. Could it be that 95.4 percent of these unhappy folks have a job?
D. Maybe it is the ability to walk into a grocery store at any time and see more food in moments than Darfurhas seen in the last year?
E.. Maybe it is the ability to drive our cars and trucks from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean without having to present identification papers as we move through each state?
F.. Or possibly the hundreds of clean and safe motels we would find along the way that can provide temporary shelter?
G.. I guess having thousands of restaurants with varying cuisine from around the world is just not good enough either.
H. Or could it be that when we wreck our car, emergency workers show up and provide services to help all and even send a helicopter to take you to the hospital.
I.. Perhaps you are one of the 70 percent of Americans who own a home.
J.. You may be upset with knowing that in the unfortunate case of a fire, a group of trained firefighters will appear in moments and use top notch equipment to extinguish the flames, thus saving you, your family, and your belongings.
K.. Or if, while at home watching one of your many flat screen TVs, a burglar or prowler intrudes, an officer equipped with a gun and a bullet-proof vest will come to defend you and your family against attack or loss.
L.. This all in the backdrop of a neighborhood free of bombs or militias raping and pillaging the residents. Neighborhoods where 90% of teenagers own cell phones and computers.
M.. How about the complete religious, social and political freedoms we enjoy that are the envy of everyone in the world?
Maybe that is what has 67% of you folks unhappy.
Fact is, we are the largest group of ungrateful, spoiled brats the world has ever seen. No wonder the world loves the U.S. , yet has a great disdain for its citizens. They see us for what we are. The most blessed people in the world who do nothing but complain about what we don't have, and what we hate about the country instead of thanking the good Lord we live here.
I know, I know What about the president who took us into war and has no plan to get us out? The president who has a measly 31 percent approval rating? Is this the same president who guided the nation in the dark days after 9/11? The president that cut taxes to bring an economy out of recession?
Could this be the same guy who has been called every name in the book for succeeding in keeping all the spoiled ungrateful brats safe from terrorist attacks? The commander in chief of an all-volunteer army that is out there defending you and me?
Did you hear how bad the President is on the news or talk show? Did this news affect you so much, make you so unhappy you couldn't take a look around for yourself and see all the good things and be glad? Think about it......are you upset at the President because he actually caused you personal pain OR is it because the 'Media' told you he was failing to kiss your sorry ungrateful behind every day.
Make no mistake about it.
The troops in Iraq and Afghanistan have volunteered to serve, and in many cases may have died for your freedom. There is currently no draft in this country. They didn't have to go. They are able to refuse to go and end up with either a ''general'' discharge, an 'other than honorable'' discharge or, worst case scenario, a ''dishonorable'' discharge after a few days in the brig.
So why then the flat-out discontentment in the minds of 69 percent of Americans?
Say what you want but I blame it on the media. If it bleeds it leads and they specialize in bad news. Everybody will watch a car crash with blood and guts. How many will watch kids selling lemonade at the corner? The media knows this and media outlets are for-profit corporations. They offer what sells, and when criticized, try to defend their actions by 'justifying' them in one way or another. Just ask why they tried to allow a murderer like O.J. Simpson to write a book about how he didn't kill his wife, but if he did he would have done it this way......Insane!
Turn off the20TV, burn Newsweek, and use the New York Times for the bottom of your bird cage. Then start being grateful for all we have as country. There is exponentially more good than bad. We are among the most blessed people on Earth and should thank God several times a day, or at least be thankful and appreciative.' 'With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, 'Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?'
Jay Leno
Please keep this in circulation. There are so many people who need to read this and grasp the truth of it.
The Famous, the Infamous, the Lame - in your browser.Get the TMZ Toolbar Now!
For instance, the essay below was not written by Jay Leno. It's going around the internet as penned by him, (or by David Letterman, depending on which version you get) in order to make us like it better, having been written by a well liked and well known comedian.
It doesn't need the "teaser" line ("Jay Leno wrote this; it's the Jay Leno we don't often see....") - which is pure hogwash - because it's a good essay, and it makes a good point. But the premise is false. Untruth. Wrong. Misleading. Factually inaccurate. Lies.
Nowadays, pretty much anybody in the U.S. can go to snopes.com or any number of internet sources to double check on stories they get on the internet. But what I'm really interested in is the sociological question - why a certain swath of the population is willing to forward on emails without checking them for facts?
I only get these from my Dad, his girlfriend, my mom, my aunt, and a couple of friends. What do all these people in my life have in common? All conservative.
I'd be loathe to make the connection, (I like to think of myself as a political "independent,") except that several of my friends have pointed out the same pattern in their own families.
Maybe it's a generational thing. Older people are more likely to be conservative. And perhaps older people are, by nature, less - jaded - than those of us who have grown up learning about politics from the controversy of Vietnam and lies and intrigues of Nixon. They believe things. While we believe in - nothing.
Are people who are politically or religiously conservative, by nature, naive? Do they believe anything they see in writing?
I can't believe that of my dad, the ever-present cynic, always rattling around in my own head. Are they lazy? Don't see that quality in anyone on my "conservative" list. Unintelligent? Undiscerning? Conniving? Nada, nada, nada. They're all smart, informed, driven, well intentioned people.
So why don't they check out their information?
I'm puzzled. I get forwards from my more liberal friends and relatives all the time, and while they can certainly be biased, they never make fear-mongering, false blanket statements like this: (in gigantic lettering) "Windfall Tax on Retirement Income! Hold on to your pocketbooks!! Nancy Pelosi wants a Windfall Tax on Retirement Income. This woman is a nut case! You aren't going to believe this!"
(Incidentally my more liberal friends also seem more familiar with the use of the "bcc:" button, which prevents every single person you send the email to from receiving a full list of everyone-you've-sent-it-to's email address. We who use the bcc: tend to get annoyed with those who don't because all it takes is for one person 100 "forwards" later to get your address, and suddenly your inbox is inundated with SPAM for months.)
Spreading gossip and lies is something we all grew up aiming to avoid, and if that's all that was wrong here I guess I could put a lid on it. What worries me is the larger implications of how people make decisions. People act and speak - and vote- based on the false information they get - by word of mouth, on TV, in magazines, and yes, by email.
There's a human tendency to believe something even more when we see it in writing than when we hear about it some other way. "It is written" is written on the backs of our brains for all eternity as something tantamount to fact.
I spend a good deal of my political focus teetering on a wire between two of the best current-events informed people I know - my conservative father and my liberal boyfriend. One day I started looking at their sources - websites, magazines newspapers - and was shocked to see that not only were their sources biased, they were often getting fed, by their sources, absolutely conflicting FACTUAL information. Numbers, quotes, details of incidents which shape the history of the future. Factually different.
I assigned them both a week of looking at one another's sources. Neither of them took me up on it.
We keep getting these emails. And sending them. And watching the TV news, and listening to the radio talk shows and reading the magazines which say things we agree with.
What's going on? ???
Enjoy this essay - mostly by author Craig R. Smith - below.
As most of you know I am not a President Bush fan, nor have I ever been, but this is not about Bush, it is about us, as Americans, and it seems to hit the mark.
The other day I was reading Newsweek magazine and came across some Poll data I found rather hard to believe. It must be true given the source, right?
The Newsweek poll alleges that 67 percent of Americans are unhappy with the direction the country is headed and 69 percent of the country is unhappy with the performance of the President.
In essence 2/3 of the citizenry just ain't happy and want a change. So being the knuckle dragger I am, I started thinking, 'What are we so unhappy about?''
A.. Is it that we have electricity and running water 24 hours a day, 7 Days a week?
B.. Is our unhappiness the result of having air conditioning in the summer and heating in the winter?
C.. Could it be that 95.4 percent of these unhappy folks have a job?
D. Maybe it is the ability to walk into a grocery store at any time and see more food in moments than Darfurhas seen in the last year?
E.. Maybe it is the ability to drive our cars and trucks from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean without having to present identification papers as we move through each state?
F.. Or possibly the hundreds of clean and safe motels we would find along the way that can provide temporary shelter?
G.. I guess having thousands of restaurants with varying cuisine from around the world is just not good enough either.
H. Or could it be that when we wreck our car, emergency workers show up and provide services to help all and even send a helicopter to take you to the hospital.
I.. Perhaps you are one of the 70 percent of Americans who own a home.
J.. You may be upset with knowing that in the unfortunate case of a fire, a group of trained firefighters will appear in moments and use top notch equipment to extinguish the flames, thus saving you, your family, and your belongings.
K.. Or if, while at home watching one of your many flat screen TVs, a burglar or prowler intrudes, an officer equipped with a gun and a bullet-proof vest will come to defend you and your family against attack or loss.
L.. This all in the backdrop of a neighborhood free of bombs or militias raping and pillaging the residents. Neighborhoods where 90% of teenagers own cell phones and computers.
M.. How about the complete religious, social and political freedoms we enjoy that are the envy of everyone in the world?
Maybe that is what has 67% of you folks unhappy.
< /b>
Fact is, we are the largest group of ungrateful, spoiled brats the world has ever seen. No wonder the world loves the U.S. , yet has a great disdain for its citizens. They see us for what we are. The most blessed people in the world who do nothing but complain about what we don't have, and what we hate about the country instead of thanking the good Lord we live here.
I know, I know What about the president who took us into war and has no plan to get us out? The president who has a measly 31 percent approval rating? Is this the same president who guided the nation in the dark days after 9/11? The president that cut taxes to bring an economy out of recession?
Could this be the same guy who has been called every name in the book for succeeding in keeping all the spoiled ungrateful brats safe from terrorist attacks? The commander in chief of an all-volunteer army that is out there defendi ng you and me?
Did you hear how bad the President is on the news or talk show? Did this news affect you so much, make you so unhappy you couldn't take a look around for yourself and see all the good things and be glad? Think about it......are you upset at the President because he actually caused you personal pain OR is it because the 'Media' told you he was failing to kiss your sorry ungrateful behind every day.
Make no mistake about it.
The troops in Iraq and Afghanistan have volunteered to serve, and in many cases may have died for your freedom. There is currently no draft in this country. They didn't have to go. They are able to refuse to go and end up with either a ''general'' discharge, an 'other than honorable'' discharge or, worst case scenario, a ''dishonorable'' discharge after a few=2 0days in the brig.
So why then the flat-out discontentment in the minds of 69 percent of Americans?
Say what you want but I blame it on the media. If it bleeds it leads and they specialize in bad news. Everybody will watch a car crash with blood and guts. How many will watch kids selling lemonade at the corner? The media knows this and media outlets are for-profit corporations. They offer what sells, and when criticized, try to defend their actions by 'justifying' them in one way or another. Just ask why they tried to allow a murderer like O.J. Simpson to write a book about how he didn't kill his wife, but if he did he would have done it this way......Insane!
Turn off the TV, burn Newsweek, and use the New York Times for the bottom of your bird cage. Then start being grateful for all we have as country. There is exponentially more good than bad. We are among the most blessed people on Earth and should thank God several times a day, or at least be thankful and appreciative.' 'With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, 'Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?'
Jay Leno
Please keep this in circulation. There are so many people who need to read this and grasp the truth of it.
=
Attached Message
From: Susan Waters
Jay Leno wrote this; it's the Jay Leno we don't often see....
As most of you know I am not a President Bush fan, nor have I ever been, but this is not about Bush, it is about us, as Americans, and it seems to hit the mark.
The other day I was reading Newsweek magazine and came across some Poll data I found rather hard to believe. It must be true given the source, right?
The Newsweek poll alleges that 67 percent of Americans are unhappy with the direction the country is headed and 69 percent of the country is unhappy with the performance of the President.
In essence 2/3 of the citizenry just ain't happy and want a change. So being the knuckle dragger I am, I started thinking, 'What are we so unhappy about?''
A.. Is it that we have electricity and running water 24 hours a day, 7 Days a week?
B.. Is our unhappiness the result of having air conditioning in the summer and heating in the winter?
C.. Could it be that 95.4 percent of these unhappy folks have a job?
D. Maybe it is the ability to walk into a grocery store at any time and see more food in moments than Darfurhas seen in the last year?
E.. Maybe it is the ability to drive our cars and trucks from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean without having to present identification papers as we move through each state?
F.. Or possibly the hundreds of clean and safe motels we would find along the way that can provide temporary shelter?
G.. I guess having thousands of restaurants with varying cuisine from around the world is just not good enough either.
H. Or could it be that when we wreck our car, emergency workers show up and provide services to help all and even send a helicopter to take you to the hospital.
I.. Perhaps you are one of the 70 percent of Americans who own a home.
J.. You may be upset with knowing that in the unfortunate case of a fire, a group of trained firefighters will appear in moments and use top notch equipment to extinguish the flames, thus saving you, your family, and your belongings.
K.. Or if, while at home watching one of your many flat screen TVs, a burglar or prowler intrudes, an officer equipped with a gun and a bullet-proof vest will come to defend you and your family against attack or loss.
L.. This all in the backdrop of a neighborhood free of bombs or militias raping and pillaging the residents. Neighborhoods where 90% of teenagers own cell phones and computers.
M.. How about the complete religious, social and political freedoms we enjoy that are the envy of everyone in the world?
Maybe that is what has 67% of you folks unhappy.
Fact is, we are the largest group of ungrateful, spoiled brats the world has ever seen. No wonder the world loves the U.S. , yet has a great disdain for its citizens. They see us for what we are. The most blessed people in the world who do nothing but complain about what we don't have, and what we hate about the country instead of thanking the good Lord we live here.
I know, I know What about the president who took us into war and has no plan to get us out? The president who has a measly 31 percent approval rating? Is this the same president who guided the nation in the dark days after 9/11? The president that cut taxes to bring an economy out of recession?
Could this be the same guy who has been called every name in the book for succeeding in keeping all the spoiled ungrateful brats safe from terrorist attacks? The commander in chief of an all-volunteer army that is out there defending you and me?
Did you hear how bad the President is on the news or talk show? Did this news affect you so much, make you so unhappy you couldn't take a look around for yourself and see all the good things and be glad? Think about it......are you upset at the President because he actually caused you personal pain OR is it because the 'Media' told you he was failing to kiss your sorry ungrateful behind every day.
Make no mistake about it.
The troops in Iraq and Afghanistan have volunteered to serve, and in many cases may have died for your freedom. There is currently no draft in this country. They didn't have to go. They are able to refuse to go and end up with either a ''general'' discharge, an 'other than honorable'' discharge or, worst case scenario, a ''dishonorable'' discharge after a few days in the brig.
So why then the flat-out discontentment in the minds of 69 percent of Americans?
Say what you want but I blame it on the media. If it bleeds it leads and they specialize in bad news. Everybody will watch a car crash with blood and guts. How many will watch kids selling lemonade at the corner? The media knows this and media outlets are for-profit corporations. They offer what sells, and when criticized, try to defend their actions by 'justifying' them in one way or another. Just ask why they tried to allow a murderer like O.J. Simpson to write a book about how he didn't kill his wife, but if he did he would have done it this way......Insane!
Turn off the20TV, burn Newsweek, and use the New York Times for the bottom of your bird cage. Then start being grateful for all we have as country. There is exponentially more good than bad. We are among the most blessed people on Earth and should thank God several times a day, or at least be thankful and appreciative.' 'With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, 'Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?'
Jay Leno
Please keep this in circulation. There are so many people who need to read this and grasp the truth of it.
The Famous, the Infamous, the Lame - in your browser.
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