Bankin’ for ‘Bama

I recently spent some quality time phone banking at the Sacramento for Obama office. This was my first time doing phone banking. I walked in cold, with some trepidation. Calling complete strangers on the phone? Yikes.

The place was packed. There were so many volunteers, there wasn’t even a phone left for me to use. The small room was crackling with energy. The noise level was high with so many conversations going on at once.

I was a little worried about the people being too fiery-eyed, but that wasn’t the vibe at all. The whole time I was there, people were positive, upbeat and not acting like freaky acolytes. Why was I there? What was it that made me go do phone banking for the first time in my life? Just a feeling of duty–that I had to do something, right then. That it was important to contribute in even this minuscule way.

The first call I made, luckily for me, was to an Obama supporter who’d already voted. Phew. That was easy. I thanked her for her time and hung up. Then I realized, I forgot to follow the script, which had a couple other questions we were supposed to ask people.

I made the second call, and did better. With every call, my delivery improved, and after a dozen or so calls I was in the groove. And it felt good. No, it felt great! Many of the people I spoke with had already mailed in their ballots. Of those, all had voted for Obama. One woman said, “It’s Obama all the way. Of course it is!”

The people I spoke with made my day. I could just hear the hope and the happiness in their voices. But the one call that made me feel like it was really worth it? The woman who said “Oh, I heard it was too late to mail in my ballot.” The cool thing was, we all had these lists of where people could drop off their ballots. I was able to let the woman know it wasn’t too late, and give her the address where she could take her ballot. A small thing, but a highlight of the day.

We have a week to go. I’ll be going back to do what I can, like thousands of other volunteers across the country.

Open invitation to Tina Fey

I would like to say, just for the record, that I was a fan of Tina Fey’s before this whole stupid doppelganger thing.

Dear Tina –

Your comment about leaving Earth if John McCain (or, more specifically, She Who Might Eat Puppies) is elected really resonated with me. Everyone else always threatens to move to Canada or Mexico or France. But you…you raised the bar. I always leaned toward Mexico myself, since it has nicer beaches than Canada and better margaritas.

But, if you leave EARTH, I mean…where does one go? The audacity! Of course, if you’re a Trekkie, you have virtually hundreds of planets, theoretically, to choose from. But, I’m not a Trekkie (even though I know what they mean when they say M Class planet).

Your idea, though, has stuck with me…It’s unique. It’s oddly appealing. It’s a strange, quirky twist on old ideas. Why, it’s much like you, yourself, isn’t it?

And, now, apparently, it’s possible. I give you Gliese 381c.

Tina…if they win, please contact me. I would like to come with you. In fact, I believe we could easily populate this new, slightly larger-than-Earth planet with millions of the best people who no longer want to occupy this one.

We’ll need to re-name it something more appropriate, of course. But you’re creative, so I think you’d come up with something really good. I mean, we could call it something like Tinath and I’d be content.

I mean, hopefully, it won’t come to that…but if it does, it’s really comforting to have a back-up plan.

Terrorist fist bumps,

6

The truth is out: I’m an un-American America hater, too.

Frankly, it’s kind of a relief, you know, that somebody finally had the courage to just come out and say it. There are so many people these days who just hate the crap out of this country. People like me who have been hiding under the rocks like little cockroaches, and it’s high time somebody set us straight…doncha think?

So, I was thinking this weekend about how I turned out this way…so wrong-headed about everything and so willing to hate this wonderful country the way I do. And why is it that when I am out back burning my bras (with or without my coven) that every so often I feel the compulsion to toss Old Glory on the bonfire, too? Some of the reasons I came up with…

* Let’s start with our stupid educational system. First off, it’s all socialistic because the government actually pays for it. That totally sucks. But even worse? They taught me about useless things like critical thinking and deductive reasoning. These things have not served me well because I’m always asking questions–seeking some lame “ideals” instead of just knuckling down and getting to work–like a true American would do.

* Next, that ill-thought out Bill of Freaking Stupid Entitlements…er…Rights. I mean, it’s patently obvious that not all men are created equal (much less we mere females). Bah! And anyone can say whatever they want? That’s utterly ridiculous. (Actual true note: I’d probably be better off not saying whatever I want all the time, since it usually gets me in trouble.)

* I was raised with this completely illogical belief that it’s allowed for people to practice their own religions in peace and that I can even choose which one to follow (or, in my case, none). I mean–that’s a recipe for social decay if I ever saw one!

* The whole voting thing–it’s such a burden and a waste of time. All that reading you have to do, and the paying attention. Not only that, but then you get all these crazy ideas, like “a woman could hold public office” or “let’s have a black president”–you know, whacko fantasy stuff like that.

* I simply despise how we send money and food all over the globe via institutions like the U.N. and USAID. Talk about spreading the wealth around. We’re nearly as bad as, say, Sweden. And really, who wants to be like Sweden? Bunch of crazy, tow-headed socialists…Do you know, some of our money even goes to pay for things like toilets and water treatment plants and schools in other countries. Scandalous.

* But the worst thing of all is that this country set me up! I’m a victim here! All this time, I’ve just been walking around freely, reading books by other America haters, just thinking I can spout off my opinion or choose my own path or own a small business or support gay marriage or…any number of other ill-conceived, anti-freedom, unpatriotic sorts of activities. This country made me live a life filled with lies and misinformation–I always thought this crazy behavior was okay. Even encouraged. Boy, was I wrong.

Now that I’ve seen the error of my ways, I shall live out the rest of my days striving to be a good, pro-America American! I will wear a flag pin on my lapel and attend church. I will organize rallies to oppose these rampant rights that are steering so many of us in the wrong direction. Meet me in front of City Hall! What shall we protest first?!! Let’s start with that annoying First Amendment…it’s gotta go! Also, all this socialism has got to stop. First, let’s make people pull up their bootstraps and start paying for their own schools. Then we can tackle that sacred cow of the leftist wealth redistributionists–Social Security. There’s so much to do!

Just in closing, this weekend brought back a memory of when I lived in Miami. It was during the Elian Gonzales fiasco, and people were rioting in the streets. Portions of the “Miami-Cuban” community were incensed. (I won’t go into the details because it’s like 40 years of really twisted history.) The nightly news had a shot of a Cuban man holding a burning U.S. flag from a window, as he screamed (in Spanish) ”This country oppresses me!” I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or get angry, and so I just did both. The image has stuck with me because I never had the opportunity to grab him firmly by the lapels and explain to him in detail what a hypocritical moron he was. Not that it would have worked.

The Graying of Gen-X

It’s so hard to be a Gen-Xer. The sammich generation between the bloated Boomers and the ever-so-hip “Millennials”. The generation that sums up its entire emotive range with whatever. The generation that is essentially considered a nonentity by every pollster and marketeer, but nonetheless brought with us an amazing range of music (hair bands to punk to Morrissey) and was the inspiration for a long string of movies like The Breakfast Club (or better…Heathers).

Not to mention, we whine with the best of ‘em.

Anyway, we’re all getting f*cking old. I ran into a guy from high school, who’s two years younger than me. He’s now managing a bank, balding, what’s left of his hair is gray, and he has (shudders!) a PAUNCH. A freaking middle-aged PAUNCH.

We used to be the cutting-edge ones, the cool kids, the face of a new generation. Now? My compatriots and I are widening at the midsections, fraying at the seams, and sagging a bit more each year. And yet, as has been the case all our lives, our petty concerns are ignored by the self-absorbed older crowd–they’re just worried about their stock investments and their cholesterol counts, and dismissed by the younger crowd–who are too busy doing something techy with their iPods to care.

Oy vey. It’s like my generation hasn’t even fully grown up–and now we’ve started getting OLD?

Ex-Boyfriend Week 2008 (It’s very similar to Shark Week)

It occurs annually and contains the stuff of your worst nightmares…

From my emails, I’m starting to gather that a majority of my readers (hi! love ya!) are female. This is cool with me. And I would love to hear if any of you have experienced this phenomenon. (Tater: Please do not read this post. You’re the bestest boyfriend ever!)

Every year, right about this time, I start getting calls and emails from various and sundry ex-boyfriends. Generally, it’s several over the course of about a week, and it happens with such predictable regularity, I have had to name it. It’s like freaking Halley’s Comet or something, sweeping through, a trail of (relationship) debris in its wake.

Since this year’s Ex-Boyfriend Week is approaching, I have found myself wondering “Who will it be this year?” and reflecting on past years’ Ex-Boyfriend Weeks. A few notable memories:

* The flyboy calls every year, like freaking clockwork. What do you expect from someone in the military, anyway? It’s like he’s sitting there, back in DC, thinking “It’s October…I’d better get in touch.” I dig the flyboy. We couldn’t have much less in common–he’s career military, a staunch Republican, and (now, not then, of course) a happy husband and father. Nonetheless, I get the annual call or email (if he can’t track down a phone number)–for the past 15 years. Oddly enough, I always feel this sort of kindredspiritness about him.

* The boyfriend from eighth grade tracked me down and emailed me last year. That was strange, since I hadn’t actually thought about him since eighth grade. I think this was less about nostalgia and more about trying to sell everyone he’s ever known this new health drink he’s into. It was just weird. Plus, all I remember about him is that he was a really disgusting sloppy kisser. Blech.

* The psycho stalker also called and emailed last year. AUGH! I moved out of the state, out of the country, and I STILL can’t lose the freak. I could not believe it–I’d successfully dodged him for several years, and then he caught up with me. He wanted to reminisce and tell me what an important person I’d been in his life. I did not return the phone call or email, of course, but reflected that his importance in my life was that he taught me the meaning of “Restraining Order.”

* The summer fling who dropped my sorry ass. Man…that one was entertaining. I *dug* the guy and told him, which of course made him run far, far away (I know, I totally broke Dating Rule #1). A year later, he calls to see if I’d like to get together for a glass of wine and…you know. Unfortunately for Summer Fling, the miraculous Tater was on scene by that time, so I had to turn down the offer.

* Snake Boy. I once drove to Davis (where he lived) to meet a girlfriend for dinner. Who did we run into? Snake himself. On a date. With someone else. He was a regular Ex-Boyfriend Week participant for many years after that. “I loooove you. You’re the only giiirrrll for meeee…” Whiner. Rich, handsome, successful lawyer whiner.

* The Electrician. One lonely cold winter, I took a walk on the blue-collar side, scandalizing my friends, family, and even myself (a little). He had a tattoo that was actually older than I am, frighteningly enough. The Electrician calls every year. Usually after a few shots of tequila. His current girlfriend, I’m sure, is never amused.

* The Accountant. Blonde and handsome. While we were dating, he confirmed my lifelong suspicion that blondes cannot be counted upon. One night we had a date, which he called to postpone. Since I was at loose ends, I went to Faces with a gay couple who were my friends. Guess who ALSO was at Faces, on a date, with a man, that night? Seriously, the look on his face that night was deserving of an Emmy.

The most notable participant in Ex-Boyfriend Week is my ex-fiancee (yes, long story). That one was actually a bit…wrenching. I’m long over it now, but I’m sure that one of these autumns, he will again find himself possessed by the indescribable (and unfathomable) urge to call me. I can’t explain it, they just do.

How you can stop a recession…and save the world*

Now, you’re thinking that I’m completely off my rocker.** But as I’ve been mucking around the house this morning, I’ve come up with a few ideas. Feel free to add your own.

Go spend some money, already. It’s not a unique, or even particularly brilliant, revelation. If we all stop spending money, we put the brakes on the economy ourselves, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. Don’t fire the landscapers (if you’re lucky enough to have them ). Look around your house and see what needs fixing or winterizing–call the handyman. Take your shoes in for new soles. Go to the drycleaners. Head to midtown for Second Saturday tonight. Buy a book at your local bookstore–for example, Beers and Time-Tested Books–or, WTH, Borders if you must. As I sit here writing this, I am making plans to have some plumbing done and purchase a new washer and dryer (I can hear my old ones wheezing from here).

Spend your money wisely, of course, and don’t spend it all…but spend some. Granny Degrees always taught me that paying more for higher quality was always better than buying something cheap that was going to break/wear out in 18 seconds. So, this weekend, I put together a list of things I need to buy anyway. With that in hand, I am going to go patronize local businesses. It’s a beautiful thing: I get new shoes (for example), the business owners keep their employees, we all pay our damn taxes, and everyone’s happy.

Go to a restaurant. Tater doesn’t know it yet, but we’re going out to dinner tonight. Restaurants are always the first to get hit in an economic slowdown. Go support your local restrauteur. Leave a generous tip for the waitstaff. I like to think of this as heading off the recession at the pass. (If it helps, imagine yourself in Western wear, 6-shooter at your hip. “Why you lily-livered recession, you’re not gonna get past me!”)

Go through your garage and donate whatever you can to charity. I just did this last weekend. Parcel it out to several different causes/organizations if you want: Donate warm winter clothes to the WEAVE thriftshop. Donate knickknacks and household items to the SPCA thriftstore. Call places like River City Community Services (916-446-2627) to see what they need. Or Wellspring Women’s Center. Or Loaves & Fishes. Or the Salvation Army.  Go through your kitchen cabinets/pantry and donate canned goods. These are all great organizations, and it has been a rough year for them. Unleash your generosity.

Put away the credit cards and pay cash. Just opt out of the entire credit crunch and do your own budget a favor. I have been charging almost everything because I get airline miles, but I have paid off my credit balance every month, too. Still, I tend to overspend when I use the card, so I am making a commitment to reduce my use of it. I also hate to carry cash because I have a track record of losing it or spending it on lattes. So, this will take a little discipline for me, but I’m going to give it a shot. 

Hire someone. If you’re a business owner or manager, it almost seems nuts to hire right now. Of course, if everyone stops hiring, then who will have the money to buy your goods or services? Economic karma comes back to you–and you don’t even have to wait until your next life. Can’t afford it? Outsource some of your work to a local professional (a consultant, an accountant, etc.).

Get out of your house. Go for a walk. Meet your neighbors. Go to a community event. Even better: Join your neighborhood association, attend a public meeting. Do not just sit back, turn on the TV, and accept the “inevitable”–fight back with a positive, activist attitude. Fight against recession with the same passion you would against, say, global warming.

Adjust your outlook. Don’t let the news drag you down. Sure it sucks…but this country has been through worse and overcome worse. It will do no one any good to be resigned. I don’t want to go all new agey on you, but if we all collectively decide to be generous and kind with each other, it will help.

Do something that makes you feel good and that is also useful. Volunteer for an organization doing something you believe in. Vacuum your living room. Make cupcakes. Help a friend paint her living room. Complacency is not an option.

Do a quick Google…Don’t take my word for it. There are other interesting articles and posts about these same things. Here’s one. I’m sure there are 9 million more–and from people who, you know, have actual economics degrees.

Go vote on November 4. Because it really matters more than ever now (okay, it always matters). And I’m not just talking about the presidential race. Choose your elected representatives wisely, because we are going to need exceptional people to lead during these exceptional times.

* Much as the world often hates to admit it–and how can you blame them?–as goes the U.S. economy, so goes the world. Do a neighbor a solid.

**If you’re not already convinced, feel free to read my other posts for incontrovertible evidence.

Step 1 is admitting you have a problem

This blog is having an identity crisis. I started it off to talk about all the things I love about Sacramento, but I’ve wound up talking politics more than anything.

A few years ago, I had the privilege of experiencing what it’s like to work the halls of what I always liked to call “HOB and SOB” in D.C. (The little peons like me who ran around those halls? Hallrats, of course.) After that, I was shaking hands with power brokers in Sacramento. And you know what I learned? I am just not cut out for it. I simply don’t possess the drive, diplomacy, and subterfuge that are the survival skills needed in politics. Having had my spirit thoroughly broken (not really, I just realized I sucked at it), I decided to quit cold turkey. Walk away–out of the darkness and into the light (cue inspiring music). I have a nice, apolitical job now. An organic veggie garden. A dog and a cat.

But, no, I’ve fallen back into it, that morass, that rabbithole. Local politics as a gateway drug. Perhaps it should be considered a controlled substance. And there should be treatment programs for addicts like me. “Hello, my name is 6 Degrees, and I can’t stop blogging about politics and referring to myself in the third person using a stupid handle. I watch way too much CNN and listen to NPR all the time. It’s ruining my life.”

Yesterday, I went to get a pedicure and read “Cosmo” at the salon. I’ve heard these are clinically proven to reduce political junkieness. It didn’t work. As soon as I walked in the door, I was right back at it, mainlining Anderson Cooper, who I don’t even actually like all that much, but I was all out of Blitzer and Stewart wasn’t on yet.

Maybe I’ll just start posting cute pictures of my cat.

Humble pie for Table 6!

One of my first blog posts started off “Call me a Pollyanna, but I tend to think of Sacramento as a fairly well run city.” (Hey, you try living in Miami for a few years and you’d feel the same way.)

Since those rosy days, I’ve spent the last few months questioning many things about our city government and our mayoral candidates. Back in the primaries, I voted for Heather Fargo, noting my concerns about her, but also feeling that the scale was still tipping in her direction. But tonight, I publicly dine on humble pie, help myself to a serving of crow, or (as Cal Worthington used to say) eat my shorts.

6 Degrees made the adventurous trek across Highway 50 tonight, to the Coloma Community Center on T Street, to hear Kevin Johnson speak at his townhall meeting. And…I was impressed. I was won over. I was freaking convinced.

KJ fielded some tough questions from the audience–on neighborhood pollution issues, the city budget deficit, crime and policing, homeless issues, the St. Hope investigation, economics, and education. And he answered those questions well. I wanted to ask him about his environmental agenda, but I was actually just too interested in the other questions and time ran out. (Apparently, under Mr. Johnson’s watch, meetings will begin and end on time. Gotta like that.)

But the clincher for me? The man simply has energy and enthusiasm for this city. And that shone through. He demonstrated that he was obviously well informed–citing crime stats and budget stats easily (and as he should be able to do by this point in the game). He has fresh ideas, and good ideas. Do I agree with him 100%? No. I don’t think he’s perfect. I think his inexperience will be an obstacle for him; but I came away believing that he has the personal strength and drive to overcome that inexperience. I’m still concerned that he may end up just installing a new cadre/personality cult in City Hall. I’m still worried that his emphasis on economic growth may blind him to other neighborhood and sustainability issues. I’m still wondering what in the heck he liked so much about freakin’ Phoenix (but in the interest of being halfway mature, I will stop bringing it up).

Mr. Johnson, you have my vote. I hope you will make a great mayor of this city that I love.

6 Degrees

Baby, have I got a Proposition for you!

So, 6 Degrees recently was blessed with the power of omniscience. Crazy, huh? Not really, but the BF (henceforth referred to as “Tater”) and I went through the “Official Voter Information Guide” last night and came up with our Unbeatable Strategy for Voting on the Propositions. We came up with two simple rules: If it’s a bond, it gets a no vote. If it’s longer than 2 pages, they’re up to something fishy and they get a no vote. Do you have any idea how easy that makes the voting?

There are still a few props I need to do a little more research on…and I still have not decided who I’m supporting for Mayor. Seriously, I am *struggling* with this one, folks. And if one or two of my one or two regular readers would like to to weigh in…knock yourselves out.

We’ve got a metric buttload (as my pal Scott says) of props on the ballot this time, and wading through them just begs comparison to wading through–yes, a metric buttload. The Secretary of State has a far less biased information site here.

But here’s my (our) take on it.

Prop 1: Voting NO. High-speed rail is a great idea. However, California’s deeply in debt, the feds probably aren’t going to be able to help out any time soon…so yeah, no bonds. This is a tough one for me, because I think it is needed from an economical standpoint and from an environmental standpoint; however, I think we need to get our budget under control before we agree to billions of dollars in new debt…especially right now.

Prop 2. Voting YES. This is the farm animal confinement prop. I believe that allowing a living animal to stand up, turn around, and extend its limbs is not asking too much, and this prop is supported by groups I respect. As I’ve mentioned before, I respect small farmers and local farmers. I don’t want to put them out of business, and maybe this is a flawed fix. It’s tough to tell, but this one seems reasonable enough to me.

Prop 3.  Voting NO. Children’s Hospital $$. California voters just approved a similar bond recently. I just can’t stand the thought of more state debt. I guess this makes me sound like some kind of baby-hater. Augh.

Prop 4. Voting NO. Totally blatant attempt on the part of the anti-abortion crew. I do get some of their concerns, but my answer is still no.

Prop 5. I think expanding drug treatment for convicted drug users–and nonviolent criminals at that–is a good idea. After looking into it more, and checking out the “fors” and “agins,” I’m voting YES. Tater has not yet decided.

Prop 6. Voting NO. Hey, I’m actually a fan of the police. I happen to appreciate my public safety. But a $365 million bump in the dedicated General Fund dollars (above the existing $600 million in dedicated funding)? Huh-uh. Again, not this year, not in this economy.

Prop 7. Voting NO.  Wow, there goes my green-cred. However, I’m in good company. This one’s opposed by the League of Conservation Voters and the California Taxpayers’ Assn. Even though I’m pro-renewable energy, this one seems a little shifty.

Prop 8. Voting NO. As the guy from Texas said, if there was a “Hell No” button, I’d push that. Next year, I am putting a proposition on the ballot to ban bigoted weenieheads from putting their stupid propositions on the ballot.

Prop 9. Voting NO. From what I can tell, after looking at numerous sources, this one is redundant, expensive, unneeded, and opposed by several organizations whose opinions I value.

Prop 10. Voting NO. Another doozy. Is this really the “T. Boone Pickens” boondoggle, or what? Costs the state $10 billion over 30 years. I’m saying no even though I am a huge proponent of alternative fuels and renewables.

Prop 11. Voting YES. It would be hard to make things worse–redistricting-wise.

Prop 12. Voting YES. Theoretically, this one will pay for itself. I support this ongoing, long-term program.

How are YOU voting?