Welcome to Ohio

As I write this, I am currently in Columbus, Ohio for business.  I took an early flight from Laguardia via US Airways on Tuesday.  It’s my first time traveling for work and really, I was unprepared for the small dead feeling that accompanies being on a plane in one’s work clothing.  I became my own worst nightmare: the guy who uses 3 bins at the security line in the airport.  I had my travel bag, laptop bag (which must be checked separately from my laptop), coat and other personal effects.  I was the guy fumbling around with his belt while trying to put my laptop away in the bag with one hand.  Oh no, did I wear dress socks with holes in them?  Why yes I did so suck it.  I got dressed at 4:45am while still dreaming about living Leonardo DiCaprio’s life. C’est la vie.

I know what you are saying.  Traveling isn’t that bad and traveling on someone else’s dime is awesome.  Well sure in theory it is but in practice it is much more insidious.  You start doubting certain things in small quantities.  A creeping feeling makes it way down your spine that you’re now an asshole, someone closer to Willy Loman then is reasonable.

As it was, I made my way down to the gate to join a sluggish group of lugubrious characters all dressed in their business worst.  Brooks Brother’s black 3 piece suit? Check.  Iron free Oxford in white? Check.  Plain blue or red tie? Check.  Depressingly shiny Oxford round tip shoes? Check.  Who were these compatriots in arms?  These fellows with eyes that never screamed “Say Hi to me” but rather “Ask me for my business card. Please.” Some looked busy on important calls, other had their noses buried in some deck of powerpoint slides, circling or underlining useful information so as not to sound like an idiot at the intended destination.  Oh look those two are making small talk.  Can you guess what’s next?  If you guessed an exchanging of business cards then you win and I’ve got a special vile of arsenic with your name on it.

And so it goes.  Yippie, they are starting the boarding process!

“We are now boarding passengers in Zone 1.  Repeat, only Zone 1 passengers can board” is what the lady who looks like she got fired from Walmart says through intercom.  I look down to my ticket half desperate and half hopeful.  Please be Zone 1.  Oh fuck, Zone 3 – the plane’s welfare cases.  Great.

Zone 3 loads and I enter the plane.  I check my ticket and look back up at the seat numbers posted at eye level within the cabin.  Back and forth the eyes dart trying to reconcile my seat number with the seat numbers on the side of you when the realization sinks in – “I’m in the last seat on the plane.”  Great, you’ll get all the recycled fart air from the plane at the back as well as the not-so-fresh air that escapes the bathroom every time someone exits it.  Hey you, yea you guy with the pit stains, please don’t eat a fajita the night before a flight, you’re killing me.

You find your seat and determine its time to put your bigger bag in an overhead compartment and the laptop bag under the seat in front of you.  Unfortunately this is a small domestic flight with storage space tighter then a…well you get my meaning.  Suddenly, depressed married guys in matching haircuts are arguing over compartment space.  One guy asks if he can more my bag to make space for his cookie cutter roller suitcase.  I’ve wearing my noise cancelling headphones – the ones that make me look like I’m wearing plastic ear muffs – but my ipod is off so I can hear him.  It’s too early for communication so I stare at him until he feels uncomfortable.  He makes some motion with his body that either means he wants to bang me in the ass or move my bag.  I say sure with the implicit meaning that I did not mean an ass banging.  It’s not what I would imagine my first mile high club joining experience to be.

I’m still wearing my pea coat in my seat.  I look downright terroristy – or homeless – but fuck it I’m comfortable and lazy.  I’m not taking it off so I clip on my seat belt over my coat.  I then start remembering what I was dreaming about before this sordid ordeal so I start to drift away slowly.

“Ladies and Gentlemen” comes over the intercom in a husky faux-southern twang which seems like some joke since the plane is a contained sausage fest, “this is your captain.  We are being delayed due to a traffic control problem.  Sorry folks.”

Whatever.  You’ll get to the destination eventually right?  You pass out gently.  The plane shakes and you realize you are landing.

“Ladies and gentlemen” begins a new announcement.  “Welcome to Columbus.  The local time is 10am.  Sorry for the delay.”

Oh great, we were delayed by a whole hour.

Sexual Education

As humans, we love to argue.  We argue about things which can’t be solved like creationism vs evolution or tits vs ass.  These arguments don’t really excite me as I can’t offer a solution.  One argument though, that has been looming large in my medium sized dome is that of sexual education.  This is an area argued mostly by religious folks and busy body moms, and usually breaks down into two camps: those that believe in Safe Sex Education – teaching kids to wear condoms and use birth control and be safe when engaging in sticking P’s in V’s – and then Abstinence Only Sex Education – making sure every student is terrified of any sexual contact lest their giblets fall off in wart riddled stumps.  While I’m firmly entrenched in the Safe Sex Education camp, I do believe there is another method which could be just as effective: The Virgin Sex Education.  Let me explain.

The Virgin Sex Education method revolves around the theory that there are certain things boys and girls can do to remain virgins and ensure no one will want to have sex with them at all.  Of the many benefits, the biggest would be taking out the peer pressure element of having to say “yes” or “no” to sex and instead ensuring the student can be comfortable knowing no one will preposition them for sex.  Also, students wouldn’t feel anxious and pressured to carry around condoms and be safe and worry about things like being cool.

So what is the Virgin Sex Education method?  It boils down to giving students the tools used my millions of virgins.  Let’s break it down by gender shall we.

·         Boys

o   Play role playing games where creating avatars are necessary

o   Wear t-shirts with “funny” sayings such as “Touch My Nuts” with a picture of pecans

o   Let your hair grow out without washing it

o   Grow out the peach fuzz mustache

o   Talk in public about “Magic: the Gathering” and how you would have won if only you’d received a “Spells” card

o   Consistently mention how no girl can ever compare to your mom

·         Girls

o   Wear mom jeans.  For extra coverage, bedazzled mom jeans would work best.

o   Wear pajama jeans and brag about how comfortable they are

o   For spring break, go to Disney World

o   Tell everyone how your idol is a Disney princess.  Dressing as a Disney princess once a week for school would be doubly effective.

o   Don’t shave or tweeze

These of course are merely the beginnings of a more comprehensive curriculum.  It would require an in-depth analysis and interviews with those that were able to remain virgins not through choice but rather through circumstance.

Goalless Activism

"Hey man, I just want like to end greed man."

I won’t bore you with facts about my life since it’s really not that exciting but I happen to work on “Wall Street” in some capacity.  I use quotes on “Wall Street” since the firm that I currently work at isn’t actually located on the street, but it is part of the “street” at large.  I am by no means a titan of industry or self described master of the universe.  I am not in a position to make any financial decisions which would impact faceless individuals or the economy.  I don’t make millions of dollars a year trading exotic (and barely legal or understandable) financial instruments.  I’m just a worker bee in this shitty world trying to get my slice of the pie.  So excuse while I rant a little about these dirty hippie protesting assholes giving me shit during my day.

I’m not sure how you operate but it takes every fiber of my being not to stomp the creeping Jesus out of some dread locked white boy telling me I’m going to hell for being greedy as I walk to work.  So because I’m wearing a suit and tie I’m going to burn for my sins huh?  I didn’t realize earning a paycheck was evil, but thanks for the commentary.  And really, I’m in a no win situation.  How are you going to go after some pacifist who may or may not have lice?  No one wants “beat hippie to a bloody pulp” on their permanent record.  It’s like being the skinny kid at fat camp – you might win at the contests, but really, did you win?

More problematic, no one has given any clear indication of why they are protesting.  There have been some vague comments made by Kashi-enthusiasts about “greed” and “corruption”.  But now word is coming out that the message of these protests have been expanded to include foreclosure prevention, climate change, and various other social and justice related issues.  Confounding things further, these issues are being lumped under the umbrella being called “occupy Wall Street” which has apparently expanded to other cities around the country.  Because you know, indirectly Wall Street is responsible for the ills in the world, including albino alligators and paper cuts.

Now I’m not an idiot (despite my writing deficiency and grammar of a 6^th grader) and realize that things aren’t all that fucking peachy in the good ole US of A.  I’m all for a good shit raising.  We should be getting in touch with our inner contrarians and asking more of those in positions of power.  I’m all for trying to achieve some sort of equality or asking for change.  But for fuck sake, have a clear message.  Have a clear, defined agenda that you can talk to.  Have clear *goals* in mind for what you want to achieve.  Stop harassing normal working folk just trying to get through their day with limited homicidal thoughts.  Stop perpetuating the image of yourselves as dirty, tree hugging vagabonds.  And for the love of sweet fancy Moses, stop with the spoken word poetry readings in public.