Today, while driving home from work, I heard "Sweet Caroline" followed immediately by "Crocodile Rock"* and I had this really embarrassing, but strangely compelling, thought. As the day has worn on, this thought has become a conviction. Don't judge. You know that sometimes you have shameful ideas too.
This is the thought: I think that I would really like it if there was a radio station that played nothing but Neil Diamond, Elton John and Billy Joel.
I'm not saying that I would listen to it all the time. I don't even know if I would pre-program it on my car radio, but I would like knowing that it was there, if I needed to hear those guys in continuous rotation. It would be comforting.
*This is probably my least favorite Elton John song, and I find it just barely more tolerable than "It's Still Rock n' Roll to Me" which is my least favorite Billy Joel tune.
24 January 2009
Additions/Corrections
Thank you for your kind words, readers, about my angry Sam Adams letter. Although, Marcus (or should I say, "Pastor Jack"?), I didn't actually say that I ever thought he was a "good" guy. I said, "ok" guy. My expectations of anyone who wants to run for elected office are appropriately low.
The leaf tax, thanks for your interest Felisa and Qwanty, is a tax levied against the residents of about 16 Portland neighborhoods. The idea is that these people should pay the city to remove leaves in the fall--whether they do their own yard maintenance or not. This is a terrible idea--arbitrary and unfair.
Even Just Out has pulled its support of Mayor Adams. The sooner he resigns, the better.
The leaf tax, thanks for your interest Felisa and Qwanty, is a tax levied against the residents of about 16 Portland neighborhoods. The idea is that these people should pay the city to remove leaves in the fall--whether they do their own yard maintenance or not. This is a terrible idea--arbitrary and unfair.
Even Just Out has pulled its support of Mayor Adams. The sooner he resigns, the better.
21 January 2009
So this is not my promised blog on Bryan Adams (which, by the way, has now been upstaged by Qwanty's response anyhow), but it is, rather, an open letter to newly-installed Portland mayor Sam Adams. I don't usually get political, but this situation is upsetting and confounding. If you don't already know about Adams and the recent scandal, check out the Willie article that led to Adams's recent media confessions.
Dear Sam Adams:
I am very, very, very disappointed in you. It's not that you did something creepy by sleeping with an 18 year old (although I would argue that you knew it was creepy. If you didn't know that, you wouldn't have lied about it). It's that you lied--over and over--until you got yourself into the mayor's office. And your lie most hurts those who have supported you. It makes the people of Portland, who love and are proud of this town, look like fools for believing you when you claimed that you were just a "mentor" to this young man. You had to have known that Portland would get national attention for electing the first gay mayor of a major American city, and that your administration would be under some heightened scrutiny. I'm not saying that it is fair that you should be more closely watched than a heterosexual mayor may be--but I would think that you would be 1) sensitive to the very real possibility that you would be and would 2) take appropriate steps to conduct yourself in a way that would reflect well on the city that you claim to care about and the community that has been so supportive of you.
Not only have you made Portlanders look bad, you have actually further damaged perceptions that too many in the straight world have of gay men. Instead of contributing to gay history in a positive way, you have helped set back gay public relations. Well done. Right wing talk show hosts are probably positively gleeful. (And, if for no other reason, you are dead to me because you have made that ass Lars Larson happy. That is unforgivable.)
There are two aspects of this situation I find especially galling. First, that you thought--even for a second--that you could get away with this. What the hell is wrong with you politicians? In what world does this young man, or his friends NOT TALK? You were bound to be found out. But you lied anyway. People might have forgiven the bad judgement (because sleeping with a barely legal intern less than half your age IS bad judgement--whether that intern is the same sex or not) , but you don't deserve to be forgiven by the very people who believed enough in you to take your word over the word of those who tried to tell the truth in the first place. You clearly think that you are very smart and the rest of us are very stupid.
Second, I cannot, for the life of me, understand why you would risk your reputation, the reputation of the city (that, again, you claim to love), and the perception of the gay community for an 18 year old piece of ass. I mean, it isn't like you were in love. Or thought that this was going to be a long term relationship. You literally just wanted to have a fling with a twink. Well, good for you. I hope that you DO get yanked out of City Hall. I hope that this ruins any other political aspirations that you have. Because you could have had all the tail you wanted after you were done with your public life. Your lack of self-control (and it IS reported that your staffers warned you away from this "relationship" so you can't very well claim that you didn't know better) has been visited on all of us. I hope it was worth it.
You know, I was willing to look past your ridiculous "leaf tax" and that terrible fur hat you wore during the December snow storms because I thought you were an ok guy. You are not an ok guy. You are a guy who has repeatedly shown bad judgement, arrogance, a propensity to lie (even when you are sure to be caught) and supreme selfishness. You don't deserve to be the mayor of the greatest town in America.
A truly disgusted,
Kristin R. Dorsey
Dear Sam Adams:
I am very, very, very disappointed in you. It's not that you did something creepy by sleeping with an 18 year old (although I would argue that you knew it was creepy. If you didn't know that, you wouldn't have lied about it). It's that you lied--over and over--until you got yourself into the mayor's office. And your lie most hurts those who have supported you. It makes the people of Portland, who love and are proud of this town, look like fools for believing you when you claimed that you were just a "mentor" to this young man. You had to have known that Portland would get national attention for electing the first gay mayor of a major American city, and that your administration would be under some heightened scrutiny. I'm not saying that it is fair that you should be more closely watched than a heterosexual mayor may be--but I would think that you would be 1) sensitive to the very real possibility that you would be and would 2) take appropriate steps to conduct yourself in a way that would reflect well on the city that you claim to care about and the community that has been so supportive of you.
Not only have you made Portlanders look bad, you have actually further damaged perceptions that too many in the straight world have of gay men. Instead of contributing to gay history in a positive way, you have helped set back gay public relations. Well done. Right wing talk show hosts are probably positively gleeful. (And, if for no other reason, you are dead to me because you have made that ass Lars Larson happy. That is unforgivable.)
There are two aspects of this situation I find especially galling. First, that you thought--even for a second--that you could get away with this. What the hell is wrong with you politicians? In what world does this young man, or his friends NOT TALK? You were bound to be found out. But you lied anyway. People might have forgiven the bad judgement (because sleeping with a barely legal intern less than half your age IS bad judgement--whether that intern is the same sex or not) , but you don't deserve to be forgiven by the very people who believed enough in you to take your word over the word of those who tried to tell the truth in the first place. You clearly think that you are very smart and the rest of us are very stupid.
Second, I cannot, for the life of me, understand why you would risk your reputation, the reputation of the city (that, again, you claim to love), and the perception of the gay community for an 18 year old piece of ass. I mean, it isn't like you were in love. Or thought that this was going to be a long term relationship. You literally just wanted to have a fling with a twink. Well, good for you. I hope that you DO get yanked out of City Hall. I hope that this ruins any other political aspirations that you have. Because you could have had all the tail you wanted after you were done with your public life. Your lack of self-control (and it IS reported that your staffers warned you away from this "relationship" so you can't very well claim that you didn't know better) has been visited on all of us. I hope it was worth it.
You know, I was willing to look past your ridiculous "leaf tax" and that terrible fur hat you wore during the December snow storms because I thought you were an ok guy. You are not an ok guy. You are a guy who has repeatedly shown bad judgement, arrogance, a propensity to lie (even when you are sure to be caught) and supreme selfishness. You don't deserve to be the mayor of the greatest town in America.
A truly disgusted,
Kristin R. Dorsey
20 January 2009
If you think that was bad--
First of all, thank you to those who responded to my coffee outrage with appropriate support (except for you, Duggan. Not funny. I need to believe in someone.) But I have to say that I didn't realize that the post was as bitchy as it was until I read J-Bro's response. It gots to be bad when a tough-as-nails girl like Brownie tells you that you are snarky.
That said, let me rage on you all some more. You can file this in the "people are assholes" folder.
Yesterday the Kare-bear had surgery. Don't worry--it was just day surgery and she's hobbling around just fine. BUT. I went to pick her up in the truck, which is for sale (a fact important to the story to follow).
All the way down Sunnyside I kept thinking that someone was honking at me, although I dismissed this as paranoia since there was no reason for someone to be honking. I turned into the clinic parking lot and the honking followed me, and then pulled up next to me at a stop sign. The people in the car motioned for me to roll down my window. I thought maybe they were kindly going to inform me that I had a tail light out. Instead the man driving said, "Your truck is for sale?" I answered that the truck was indeed for sale, but that it wasn't mine, it belonged to my parents. I then TOLD HIM that I was picking my mother up from surgery. I thought that this would be the end of the conversation. But no. His wife asked me how me how much it was. "I don't know--I'm just picking my mom up from surgery in it." Then the guy asked how many miles it had on it. I answered, and then reiterated that I wasn't selling it, but rather just picking my mom up from surgery in it. Then the guy says, "Can you take down my number and have her call me?"
Seriously? I mean, I know that she was just having a little day surgery, but HE didn't know that (the hospital is right next to the clinic). It could have been something serious. And it was cold, and she was waiting, and this idiot is delaying me with conversation about a vehicle that I'm not even selling. So I told him that I didn't have a writing instrument (which was true) and then he said that it was alright--he'd had his wife jot down the number on the sign when we were sitting at the light.
That said, let me rage on you all some more. You can file this in the "people are assholes" folder.
Yesterday the Kare-bear had surgery. Don't worry--it was just day surgery and she's hobbling around just fine. BUT. I went to pick her up in the truck, which is for sale (a fact important to the story to follow).
All the way down Sunnyside I kept thinking that someone was honking at me, although I dismissed this as paranoia since there was no reason for someone to be honking. I turned into the clinic parking lot and the honking followed me, and then pulled up next to me at a stop sign. The people in the car motioned for me to roll down my window. I thought maybe they were kindly going to inform me that I had a tail light out. Instead the man driving said, "Your truck is for sale?" I answered that the truck was indeed for sale, but that it wasn't mine, it belonged to my parents. I then TOLD HIM that I was picking my mother up from surgery. I thought that this would be the end of the conversation. But no. His wife asked me how me how much it was. "I don't know--I'm just picking my mom up from surgery in it." Then the guy asked how many miles it had on it. I answered, and then reiterated that I wasn't selling it, but rather just picking my mom up from surgery in it. Then the guy says, "Can you take down my number and have her call me?"
Seriously? I mean, I know that she was just having a little day surgery, but HE didn't know that (the hospital is right next to the clinic). It could have been something serious. And it was cold, and she was waiting, and this idiot is delaying me with conversation about a vehicle that I'm not even selling. So I told him that I didn't have a writing instrument (which was true) and then he said that it was alright--he'd had his wife jot down the number on the sign when we were sitting at the light.
SO WHY WAS HE EVEN BOTHERING ME IN THE FIRST PLACE? And, really, why would someone continue this conversation after being told that 1) the person that they are talking to is not the seller and 2) the person is picking up the seller, who has just had surgery. And then, after being informed of these facts more than once would you continue to continue the conversation?
Arg.
(Thank you for reading this rant. The next post will be about something happy. Bryan Adams, and the music of Bryan Adams, to be specific.)
Arg.
(Thank you for reading this rant. The next post will be about something happy. Bryan Adams, and the music of Bryan Adams, to be specific.)
09 January 2009
Milky Coffee Blues
There are many reasons to hate Starbucks. I know that I don't have to tell you people that. But here is one that you may not often consider: the popularization of coffee culture brought about by corporate, franchised coffee shops has made every yahoo think that he or she knows something about coffee, when really, he or she does not. This leads to the most annoying of all coffee shop encounters: 17 year old "baristas" who think that they know more about coffee than I do. They do not.
What follows is a true account of my coffee-buying experience this morning. I warn you. This is not for the faint of heart.
ME: Can I please have a soy cafe au lait?
17 YEAR OLD: UM? What did you want?
ME: A cafe au lait made with soy milk?
17 YEAR OLD: [with great disgust] Um? Is that some kind of Starbucks thing?
ME: No, it is some kind of French thing.
Then I proceeded to EXPLAIN to this half-and-half wit how to make a damn cafe au lait.
I think that SHE owes ME a dollar ninety, plus tip.
Of course, this is still second to my all-time favorite coffee ignorance story, which involves a young lady who worked at IHOP and asked me and Donna (and, for those of you who don't know Donna, let me assure you that she is NOT someone to whom you want to pose a stupid question) what "decaf" coffee meant. She worked at friggin' IHOP. They sell two things there--pancakes with whipped cream and coffee in carafes.
ARG!
What follows is a true account of my coffee-buying experience this morning. I warn you. This is not for the faint of heart.
ME: Can I please have a soy cafe au lait?
17 YEAR OLD: UM? What did you want?
ME: A cafe au lait made with soy milk?
17 YEAR OLD: [with great disgust] Um? Is that some kind of Starbucks thing?
ME: No, it is some kind of French thing.
Then I proceeded to EXPLAIN to this half-and-half wit how to make a damn cafe au lait.
I think that SHE owes ME a dollar ninety, plus tip.
Of course, this is still second to my all-time favorite coffee ignorance story, which involves a young lady who worked at IHOP and asked me and Donna (and, for those of you who don't know Donna, let me assure you that she is NOT someone to whom you want to pose a stupid question) what "decaf" coffee meant. She worked at friggin' IHOP. They sell two things there--pancakes with whipped cream and coffee in carafes.
ARG!
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