Woke up this morning in a foul mood. Back pain. Crappy weather. Horrible headlines. It’s a bitching kind of day.
After a quick hit of lovely weather, we’re back to gray and damp. I hate March. It’s worse than February. March is like a lot of guys I know, all blustery and puffed out with self-importance and vague promises of nicer times ahead – promises it has no intention of keeping.
God, the news is awful, even leaving aside the ongoing crises in the rest of the world. Poor Natasha Richardson, dead after falling on a beginner’s slope. Oh sure, the fickle Fates take the talented ones young, leaving the crazy, less-talented wanna-bes around to pollute whatever art form they touch. And the coverage ; bordering on (no, scratch that, crossing over into) ghoulish speculation and details about her accident. It can’t possibly be as horrible as the media that followed John Travolta’s son’s death but still! Are we, the readers, really getting what we want? What we deserve? Oh ugh.
What else? We’ve replaced Bernie Madoff as villain of the week with the scoundrels who took bonuses at AIG. Jeeze, shut up about the bonuses. Look, in a fair world, no one would get bonuses or golden parachutes in order to exit the company with enough for several lifetimes as the stock goes down in flames. Bonuses are supposed to be tied to performance, which ought to mean making money for your team without shafting the world economy. Well, it’s been years since that’s happened and where has the outrage been? Corporations went from rewarding the front office guys for bringing in the business to rewarding the front-office guys simply for being front-office guys. My husband was a back-office guy whose department saved his company a lot of money; he got one tiny bonus in fifteen years. Who cared back when the 401K plans were fat and happy?
Speaking of outrage, we’re being played, people. I mean, there’s a lot to be pissed off about but keep in mind the media, particularly the radio shock jocks and their cable alternates are lapping it up because anger is their stock and trade. Nothing like a little fire and brimstone to bring up the ratings. Over in Congress, the blowhards, including those who were never shy about accepting contributions from Wall Street types, are falling all over themselves to express righteous indignation. Frankly, I don’t buy their “heads must roll” routine. With all the speechifying, you wonder if anyone is actually working.
BTW, American people, I share yours fear, concerns and anxieties. But the mob mentality is a real backward step in our supposed evolution. Are we returning to the days of pitchforks and torches? I mean, finger-pointing and people-bashing are already out of hand , but death threats and demands for the names of the bonus-holders (the better to garrot the family members with piano wire?) and what’s with the heavy artillary aimed at AIG CEO Edward Liddy, who came out of retirement at a buck a year to take this sh-t? A little venting may be in order and we may all have questions for Treasury Secretary Geithner and Senate banking Chairman Dodd (lots of questions), but we’re over the line. This is America at its worst. Pull back, people.
So I’m thinking I have enough for a column (whoops, sorry, a blog post; I get delusions of grandeur at times) but then I turn to the back of my paper and read Gail Collins’ piece on how pissed off everyone is. As usual, it’s clever, it’s timely, it’s well-research. As usual, she’s written on the very topic I was going to explore. She’s scooped me. Again! What the hell! Fine, Gail has millions of readers and I have maybe sixty-four unique visitors a day but still. She’s always one step ahead of me – always. It’s so unfair. Whaaa! I’d stamp my foot but – ow! – I can’t: my piriformis hurts too much. Serves me right.
(Please note: I will be back to my regularly scheduled, fair and balanced, voice-of-reason postings next week. Thank you for your indulgence.)
1 Woman' s Vu by Nikki Stern 
Were we ever married? You seem strikingly familiar (lol).
😎
Russell – were we married? Who knows? I’m still trying to track down all my parallel lives. Btw, I like your site and I’m sure you’ve been told you bear a striking (although much more benign) resemblance to a much crazier money guy…
Jim – thanks for the cheer although I still have my doubts about “guy” promises…
I’m really sorry about your pain, but you really CAN legally claim to have a pain in the @#$$. And, my friend, I read your column/blog/post, not Ms. Collin’s. There WILL be brighter days, I “guy” promise.
Good one! Thanks. By the way, we consulting nerds have teased out several distinctions in the realm of complaining. Here are a couple of them:
1. Recreational Complaint (good fun. However, recreational complaining can develop into a bad habit)
2. Complaint for Sympathy (we humans harbor an irrational belief that things will change or be different out of complaining for sympathy)
3. Complaint for Action – (This is the useful one. The art of turning a complaint into a request for action)
Ha! Reminds me of the joke about the most well-known Jewish wine (sic): “You never take me out anywhere!” Seriously, you present an interesting set of distinctions. Sympathetic complaining:well, sure, we hope we’ll provoke some response or receive some attention. Complaint for action: potentially the most valid if the request for action is a means of focusing an issue or prompting others to act, even if the complainers might not know themselves what action to take. As for recreational complaining (which I guess is also known as venting), sure it can help and it can even be fun as long as it doesn’t get snarky. I guess you’re also putting angry threatening complaints in this category but man, then we all need to set some boundaries. These might be recreational but they’re not my idea of fun.
hip, hip, hooray…..I am right there with you girl….
Yo! Just because it’s a whine doesn’t mean it’s BS. It’s all appalling.
But I do feel sorry for Geithner. Hell–he’s TEN YEARS younger than me, and I’m MAYBE beginning to feel like I know what I’m doing. What did these guys think they were walking into?
And I get a weird kind of amusement out of the notion that we might end up protecting the names of the bonus guys because we fear for their kids’ safety.
It’s all a big knot in my heart.
D.
Immediately greeted by, “Bitch, Bitch, Bitch”, and being the optimist that I profess to be I thought…..”Oh boy, another post about the Westminster Dog Show.”
Wrong again of course!
Here in Arkansas, contrary to some circles of thought, we deal with the same terrible economic news as the rest of the country. Although….the State’s budget is in pretty good shape I suppose. And the State’s newspaper seems to be quite solvent. But….we do from time to time seem to have occurrences perhaps sometimes unique to our area. And it is in this vain that I have been giving your concern about your competition some serious thought. I ahem speak of Gail Collins of course, who I assume was not the intended recipient of one of your “B” words.
I believe that there are news stories and current events out there just as disturbing as all this economic turmoil that if put in the hands of the right person, could knock that little Ms. Gail Collins right off her little self-proclaimed perch.
Case and point…..
Today one of the top stories here in Arkansas seems to be with regard to a young twenty-five year old man who will be going to court next week on charges that he had sex with a neighbor’s dog and horse. To be specific, supposedly an Anatolian Shepherd and a small Palomino horse. Currently however he is on parole until his court appearance next week. In the meantime, in case you’re concerned, he has been warned to stay away from his neighbor’s animals.
Oh, and then there is this past Wednesday evening when the Little Rock police swarmed an apartment knocking down the front door, tossing in smoke grenades in efforts to capture and subdue an accused drug dealer. They immediately found and cuffed a young woman giving her daughter a bath. Oh…..did I mention that had entered the wrong apartment and should have been next door?
I’m telling you….there is stuff out there that can rocket you to the top!! 🙂
wow – Arkansas is a veritable treasure trove of under-covered (not to mention undercover) stories waiting to be promoted. AOL is, of course, another wonderful place to scour the trash (no offense meant); why, I just read about a 30-year-old transgender woman who was married to the seventy-something man who used to live with her family back when she was a little boy (you following this?) who was just accused of exercising her husband to death in their pool in order to get his money. Damn, and I thought water exercises were good for you!.
Finally had time to read your blog. Wanted you to know not only did I enjoy your creative view but laughed out loud at your wonderful humor.
“BTW, American people, I share yours fear, concerns and anxieties. But the mob mentality is a real backward step in our supposed evolution. Are we returning to the days of pitchforks and torches?”
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LOL. Yeah. Here’s a comment I just saw over on FDL:
“If naked CDSs are valuable, then we should all be able to take advantage of the “naked” principle. It could be a nice, productive substitute for pitchforks and torches.
The folks that took bus tours of AIG executives’ mcmansions, for example, might want to take out naked property insurance on the residences, if only as a hedge against a sudden rise in the retail prices for bottles and gasoline. Others might like to opt for naked life insurance on individual AIG personalities. Why shouldn’t investment bankers feel every bit as secure as those of us that actually work for a living in companies facing layoffs?
Or we could push the “naked” concept beyond insurance into some truly innovative financial strategies, like naked car repossesion (sure to be popular with those unjustly vilified, hardworking souls who are currently singled out as “carjackers”). The possibilities are endless.”
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BTW, I would think the vast majority of ordinary Americans have idea as to the extent to which we are being played.
Delighted to discover another follower of Gail Collins. Reading her NY Times’ columns momentarily abates my anger toward the Times’ growing irrelevance to my life as a New Yorker.
Third wave feminism can be thanked for transforming “bitching” as a word to a new level. Helped along by old lady second-wavers like myself. I’ll return to discover who and what need to be true recipients of our collective anger.
Hi, new to your blog…and enjoying every minute… we all need to vent/rave/bitch sometimes… then foo it out and find something fun to do…
welcome!!!