The Real State of the Union (January 25, 2011)

Tonight’s much anticipated address by President Barack Obama, almost four weeks into the New Year, is a huge test for our Commander-in-Chief. However, unlike last year, the rub isn’t his ability to withstand peanut gallery heckling (House Republican Joseph Wilson’s famous “You lie!” sneer). Rather, a large section of the American public, myself included, is looking to assess Obama’s ability to keep it real – to look that camera straight in the eye and drop all the b.s. about the nation’s “exceptionalism” and “competitive advantage.” We need the President, struggling with staff overturn and the formulation of an agenda for the final two years of his term, to level with his constituents, to give voice to the hard truths that so many of us have experienced for too long.

We are a nation at a crossroads. Despite the amassing of record corporate profits during the last two years, unemployment numbers remain puzzlingly and consistently high. State governments continue to slide into insolvency, and once stable jobs in the public sector (teachers, first responders, etc) are vanishing in unprecedented droves. We don’t need a cheerleader to sell us the “everything’s looking up!” routine. Things are definitely on the upswing for CEOs, for the NYSE, but not for us. We want to know why this happened and we don’t want to hear it from Timothy Geithner. We deserve to know how to fix our structural weaknesses so we never find ourselves victimized by them again, and to experience comfort in the form of a solid plan of action. It’s not permissible to kick the can down the curb anymore, leaving the hard decisions to future administrations. It’s not fine to play the role of the soothing parent. We are adults and we know we’re hurt. I think Mr. Obama’s poll numbers ought to be the first hint that we don’t believe the “measurable growth” fairy tale.

There is still too much rightful insecurity on Main Street. Millions have been out of work for periods of a year or longer. Those of us who have been lucky enough to secure new employment often find it to be of the contract or temporary kind, transient and without livable wages and benefits. We have no idea if the health care overhaul passed last summer to such tremendous fanfare and Tea Party howling will be overturned before the close of 2011. This is not an exercise in political gamesmanship. There are real stakes involved. It’s hard to formulate a five month plan, let alone a five year one, immersed in so much uncertainty.

I am certainly no defeatist. There is a time and place in tonight’s address for a celebration of our progress, to acknowledge how far we’ve come from the days of late 2008 when it seemed entirely possible that American economic and political relevancy could go the way of the Edsel. However, keep that sort of self-congratulation to a minimum. This is the first generation to fare more poorly than the previous in terms of wage growth, home ownership and educational opportunity. Let’s talk about how we arrived here, and what we’re going to do in the next 24 months to help the once-thriving middle class get back on the road to dignity and prosperity.

Bearly Watchable (January 23, 2011)

“Somebody needs to tell the Bears this isn’t a preseason game.”

– Terry Bradshaw, NFL Fox Analyst, 3:30 PM today

At the risk of alienating my rabidly “Bear Down” family any further (please stop the bitter posts on my Facebook wall!), I must acknowledge the Bears miserable play in today’s NFC Championship Game. But I will not say I told you so.

The final score of the home advantage matchup against Aaron Rodgers and the Green Bay Packers, 21-14, really doesn’t tell the story. If there are kudos to be handed around, they are reserved for the members of the Bears’ defense, who kept the tally board from reflecting the lopsided mess in play that really occurred. Pro Bowler Brian Urlacher had a particularly effective day. A solid golf clap is also owed to third string quarterback Caleb Hainie, who honestly got the Bears back in it when it seemed all but impossible.

Hainie’s surprisingly able play does not excuse the drastic mistakes in coaching that occurred, underscoring my season-long opinion that, division championship notwithstanding, it is time to show Lovie Smith the door. The inexplicable time-out call in the fourth quarter, on a huge fourth down and three yards? Also, by playing Hainie before the conclusion of the third quarter, benched alternatives Jay Cutler and Todd Collins lost their eligibility to return to the game. What if Hainie had been injured?

Not that we missed either one of the former sorry asses. I expected nothing from second stringer Todd Collins, and with two near picks in a matter of minutes, I was not disappointed. But you Jay Cutler – you. Everything Denver Bronco fans said is 100% accurate. You are a sissy, a quitter and a quintessential pouter. When you left the game shortly after a pathetic first half with the flimsy “knee” excuse, I wanted to call Jo the Super Nanny to slap the puss off your face before you sat for the rest of the game on the naughty bench. After two unbelievably lackluster seasons, I wonder if we were really not better off with Rex Grossman, the Bears’ 2007 Super Bowl QB. We had more money at least.

As a Chicago native, a passionate sports fan, and an adrenaline addict, I am deeply saddened by the Bears ejection from post season play, no matter what my critics may believe. In this case, if not others, I am terribly sorry to have played the Cassandra-like spoiler to the conclusion of the Bears’ idiosyncratic ascent.

But if I am being honest and gracious, the better team won. A couple less concussions for Rodgers and the standings in the NFC North may have looked very different. The Bears had the luckiest run of any organization this season. I will go to my grave saying it. I wish the Green Bay Packers well in two weeks. It may make today’s debacle sit easier if it was dealt by the hands of the Super Bowl champs.

Insomnity (January 20, 2011)

I have had extra nocturnal time on my hands lately, so I started inventing new words. “Insomnity,” a combination of “insomnia” and “insanity,” pretty much conveys my physical and mental state. Feel free to use it.

It was a week ago that I wrote about finding the clarity needed to take myself less seriously. May I ask where that all that quiet calm went?

I am so frustrated. Back in December, I understood my sleeplessness when I actually had something to cry about. After being unfairly terminated, I went on interview after interview with no results. My father continued to weigh down my sister and I with increasingly odd and unlawful behavior. My husband disappointed his parents to an extent I found psychologically intolerable, and of course the holidays always bring a modicum of distress, no matter how ultimately enjoyable.

But the continuation of this now weeks-long battle to sleep just doesn’t make sense in the New Year. I am employed again. I secured a full-time temporary business writer position with a consulting firm located in downtown Chicago. Of course there is no guarantee that I won’t find myself back on the market at the conclusion of tax season, but I have a better than 50% shot at being asked to stay. I used to like those odds in my 20s. It brought out my competitive spirit. But now? I spend so much time worrying about the lack of security that I may ultimately render 2011 job seeking a self-fulfilling prophecy. Who wants to hire a strung-out looking curmudgeon?

I have had other blessings come my way in this new decade. Last Friday evening, I received a pleasant surprise in the form of being asked to edit the quarterly newsletter of the Illinois Woman’s Press Association. This is a board level appointment, and though no monetary compensation is involved, a job well and dependably done could open a wealth of doors for me. The association is largely run by female writing professionals of retirement age, and the current President made it known that selecting me represented a huge effort to engage young blood. It’s a terrific opportunity.

Yet five minutes after I accepted the appointment, I was on the verge of peeing my pants with anxiety. Apparently I have come to associate career openings with contingencies for failure. What if I flop? I do not even need to be told that this, to quote Al Franken’s legendary Saturday Night Live character, “Daily Affirmations” host Stuart Smalley, is “stinkin’ thinkin’.” But awareness that one is self-destructing and being able to control it are two totally different matters.

I have seen a doctor, several times in fact. Ambien was a nonstarter. Anti-anxiety meds seemed to help calm my system for awhile so I could get some shut eye, but I tend to grow immune to medications rather quickly. Rather than covertly up my dosage, I thought about Heath Ledger and Michael Jackson and gave it up altogether. A night or two a week I am managing six to seven hours with Nyquil or OTC sleeping pills, but really? This should not be necessary. My doctor recommended therapy, which is fine and all, but I’ve been there, done that and am not going to talk my way into a restful state. If that were the case, I’d be passed out at the conclusion of every blog post.

I am impatient and disenchanted with my own neuroticism. I am as bored with it as everyone else in my life is. Sunken eyes, blank stares at loved ones who wish to engage, and running behind on daily tasks is not sexy. Nor does this condition demonstrate a tormented artistic spirit in the style of Edgar Allen Poe (though come to think of it, some opium might be handy). It’s nonsense, and until recently, I never considered myself to be a frivolous person.

Ear Worm (January 19, 2011)


 

After several thousand opportunities to view this commercial (most often during NFL football games – I wonder who Apple’s target audience is?), I have altered my opinion of its theme song. It is purposefully catchy, so much so that I often find myself waking in the morning with its sunny notes on the brain. Initially, this made me hate the tune, the iPad product as well as the overexposed company itself (Team PC, laptop and Blackberry!).

However, when nodding in and out of a multi-stage nap in front of the TV this past weekend, my semi-conscious began to take note of the interesting musical progressions comprising this deceptively simply ditty. As a music lover, and with my curiosity piqued, I came to learn that the tune is called “Never Stop,” by an artist named Chilly Gonzales. Let it be known that I am a fan of anything bearing the moniker “Chili” in all its various spellings – the food, the singer from legendary girl group TLC, and of course Chilly Willy the Penguin.

The 30-second clip begins with the light, percussive off-rhythm sound of snaps. A few moments later, a pretty neat piano refrain is added. Let it be known that I am a fan of the ivories, though I never learned to play. I never recovered from the simple joy of the “Heart and Soul” duet danced out by Tom Hanks and Robert Loggia in the 1980s flick Big.

Midway through the sample, hand claps can be heard on top of the snaps and piano. And finally, a fairly awesome bass line completes the wordless composition.

Funny that when I realized I enjoyed the song on its own merits, rather than running from Apple constantly forcing it down my throat, I no longer minded its persistent occupation of brain space.

I still won’t buy an iPad, but “Never Stop” certainly does its job. You can’t stop the beat – or its association with the technological best seller.

 

Coming out of the Dark (January 13, 2011)

It was around the time I found myself sitting in my sister’s closet, sandwiched precariously between my brother-in-law’s suits and casual clothes, willing my body to remain silent and still, that I realized I have been taking myself far too seriously of late.

From the floor below, I heard occasional crashes and the sounds of mild confusion before two little voices pleaded in weary exasperation, “Give us a hint Aunt Becky!”

I am no ventriloquist but I attempted to throw my voice into the hallway as I yelped a quick “upstairs!”

More chaos and giggling ensued until I could no longer help myself. Besides, my right elbow had gone stiff from the modified fetal position I had chosen as my battle stance. Out I leapt, shouting “Here I am!” scaring the beejesus out of my beloved nieces, KK and Rosebud, ages 11 and 3, who ran away screaming and laughing.

Is there any sound more cleansing to the soul than that of happy children? When my sister Jen asked if I could help her out of a jam yesterday, I initially thought of all the bureaucratic business of my own life that would need rescheduling. It’s not that I don’t covet time with my girls, who live more than an hour away, it’s merely that I have allowed myself to be sucked into an unhappy, routine vortex of sending out resumes, interviewing, feeling like a loser when I don’t land the job, repeat. I tend to feel panic and guilt if I am not devoting every spare second toward contemplating my future. The funny thing is, the more I think, the less I move.

Babysitting duties: board games, movies and lunch with Rosebud, before picking up KK from school and taking the girls for an afternoon treat, left me no time, energy or desire for ruminative ill humor. It was the total break from “normal life” that I desperately needed.

I really forgot how good I am at being an aunt. And to fill the role of an auntie is no easy task. One must be game for anything. Throughout the course of the day, the woman who no longer saw herself fit for anything was alternately a horse, a chef (and per Rosebud, the maker of “the best turkey sandwich and pickle ever!”), a cat whisperer, a dancer and a catcher of imaginary butterflies. These may not be skills that an employer seeks when reviewing a resume, but I can tell you from experience, they’re damn valuable.

For the first time since I can remember, I wore a smile unforced. I handed out more hugs and kisses than I can count. I stopped thinking, in a real and honest way, about the burdens I have allowed to turn me a person with whom I’d no longer like to party.

And it must be true that good things happen to those finally ready to receive them, because after a relative dry spell, I was called for not one, but two interviews whilst cuddling the girls, enthralled by Toy Story 3. As always, I will put my best foot forward when speaking with these potential employers, but I am tired of this game, and I vow not to over think it anymore.

I was reminded that at its core, life is mostly a very silly business.