2001-01-16 - 2:46pm

Who's Who Cheat Sheet
Who I Read

On the internal soundtrack: "Fortunate Son", Creedence Clearwater Revival.

So, I wasted a lot of time yesterday watching VH-1's big countdown of the 100 best songs in rock 'n' roll. I did some housework and some work-work while I was at it though. Anyway, the number one song ...

(read no further if you haven't seen it but want to and don't like to be spoiled!)

... was the Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction". I was a little disappointed by that. Supposedly it is some quintessential rock-rebellion thing but there were a lot of other songs on the list that were a lot more powerful than that, or had more to say about their time period, as well as being ground-breaking musically. "Satisfaction" just seems too ordinary, somehow. The number two song, "Respect", would have been a better pick.

Of course, the whole idea is silly, anyway. Trying to rank songs. And it's not like I'm some big expert, I know. I like "Stayin' Alive", after all (hey! it was in the top 100, dammit!), though I wouldn't call it the best song of all time.

I did find out that "Hey Jude" was written by Paul McCartney for Julian Lennon, to sort of provide support while his parents were splitting up. That is just the sweetest, nicest thing I've ever heard about a song, and I'm big on nice. Makes me like the song even more.

I heard back from the volunteer coordinator. Yippee. Now we're trying to set up and application/interview kind of thing. Ack! I'm very excited about it. Unfortunately she probably won't check her email again for days, given how long it took to get a reply.

One thing about this volunteering business. In a weird way I worry that I'm going to come across as condescending. Like, "Ooo, I get to help people!" I've had people help me out with my hearing in a way that was extremely irritating -- all "you poor little deaf girl, let me hold your hand and help you, poor thing". It doesn't happen often, but it's really, really weird. Helping me out should involve the same mentality as opening a door for me when I've got my arms full of packages, that kind of thing.

That's how I feel about this. Somebody's got their arms full of packages, I'm holding the door open. I have some knowledge of computers and a liking of kids, and I'd like to share that with people in the hopes that they'll get something from it. I've been extremely lucky myself in having a background that allows me to have a comfortable life, and if I can do something to help other people do the same, I'll be very happy.

I also had this idea that if Poindexter and I don't have kids (or even if [gulp] we do), I'd like to pay to put someone through college who otherwise wouldn't go, and help them out with general college stuff if they need it. The thing that would bug me about doing this, though, would be choosing the person to do it for. I don't want to do that whole application thing. I'd never be able to pick. I'd rather be able to do it for a kid on my street that I see everyday. Back in San Jose we had a wide range of income levels on a single block and it was more likely I'd have that opportunity. I guess I just have to move someplace like that again.

Speaking of having kids. Poindexter happened upon some birth story show in Lifetime yesterday while he was eating his lunch. The woman was in the pushing stage of labor. I was transfixed and made him stay on that channel (he was grossed out and wanted to continue flipping).

Well, I was sickly fascinated. I will never in a million years understand what leads women to voluntarily take up this activity. All that screaming! Pushing a volleyball through a straw! The straw may be flexible, but it ain't THAT flexible. Good god! And when the baby comes out it's all blue and slimy and UGLY! It may get cute later, but pregnancy is definitely not for those who like instant gratification.

The dad fainted. It was funny. He kept saying "I'm not feeling well" and the doctor told him to go sit. He did, but he put his head back. The doctor told him to lean forward, and the dad just put his chin to his chest like was praying instead of putting his head between his knees. Next thing, he's sprawled on his back on the floor, halfway out the door. He woke up just AFTER the birth. There's a good story to tell for years to come.

My dad was there when I was born. He likes to tell the story, because it has a good toilet-humor element to it: first thing I did, apparently, was ... go ... all over the floor. Well, heck, I'd imagine being born is a traumatic experience and I've already discussed how my system reacts to stress and panic. Nowadays I prefer the privacy of the rest room, though.

Poindexter says if the birth control fails, I'm on my own in the delivery room. I told him he's a pussy. I don't know if I'd want him there or not, though. On one hand, he's my best friend and I could use his support. On the other, it's gotta be upsetting watching the woman you love go through all that. If he's just afraid of the blood, though, he's definitely going to have to be there. After all those goddamn violent movies he's made me watch.

His sister, btw, had quite a gathering in the delivery room when her kids were born. Apparently she just invited nearly everyone she was close to and a fair number of them accepted. I probably would have, too, if I'd been around and invited. I wonder if I would have fainted?

I do know one thing: I am not lying flat on my back for delivery. WTF is that all about? I'm using all the help I can get, and that includes gravity.

Well, I said I was going to let the liberals demonize conservatives and stop trying to defend the conservative viewpoint, but I can't help myself. This is too good an example to pass up, especially since it contains smut of a sort.

So I was reading Glamour magazine this weekend, and there was a story about a woman who took her boyfriend's dad to a museum when he was visiting, only to discover lots of disturbing "erotic" photography. I read it aloud to Poindexter, and he mentioned the photographs that raised a big stink a while back, mostly involving whips placed in unexpected locations in the human anatomy.

Then two days later, Jonah Goldberg of NRO writes a column where he notes that in 1990, "A man named Mappelthorpe became famous because some people thought we needed a pictures-of-a-bullwhip-in-the-tushy subsidy."

Snort. Guffaw. Switching gears for a moment...

I'm not sure I can renew my Glamour subscription because I'm getting a little put off by its knee-jerk liberalism, plus I'm too busy reading online journals to have as much time for magazines anyway. But I digress. I have said in the past that I can respect the liberal viewpoint, but I don't like knee-jerk anything.

This thought, plus the whole bullwhip thing, led me to think that I now have a good way to illustrate reasoned vs. knee-jerk liberalism and conservatism in a few words. Like this:

Say some government-funded art appears, and it's got a lot of really gross stuff in it, its value as "art" certainly debateable. So you get the following reactions:

Reasoned conservative/libertarian: I'm sure there are people who will pose for, take, and buy bullwhip-impalement pictures and under the First Amendment, they have every right to do so. However, it's not the government's job to fund art work. This should be funded by private interests, not my tax dollars.

Knee-jerk conservative: We shouldn't have to see this filth!

Upon hearing that last suggestion, we get, from the other side:

Knee-jerk liberal: Censorship! Censorship! They're trying to prevent the world from being enriched by bullwhip-impalement pictures!

Reasoned liberal: We need government to ensure that art has a way to flourish in society, since art is beneficial to a majority of people. If that means sometimes we get art that is offensive to some people, that's a necessary evil to ensure the greater good.

Now, I agree with the libertarian (surprise, surprise). I don't believe that we need government to fund the arts. I think the arts will do just fine on their own. There is probably at least one rich person in New York City who will be astonished and moved by the depth and meaning of the bullwhip-impalement pictures and will pay good money to hang one in their drawing room overlooking Central Park.

But if someone truly believes it's necessary for the government to do it, then I can accept the reasoned liberal viewpoint.

The knee-jerk liberal and knee-jerk conservative, though, I just want to smack over the head. (But I won't, of course, since that would be interfering with the rights of others.) The "conservative" is forgetting his right not to look, and the liberal thinks not being allowed to spend public money on art is tantamount to not being allowed to spend ANY money on art, which is not the case at all.

The problem is, though, that since the reasoned conservative and the knee-jerk conservative often want things that end in the same result, it is sometimes assumed that they also think the same way and have the same reasons. They don't. For example, both reasoned conservatives and knee-jerk racist "conservatives" are against quotas. The reasoned ones believe that quotas are damaging to the people they are trying to help and to vanquishing racism in general, whereas racists think only their ethnic group should get the jobs. There's a world of difference between these two types of people.

Going on a tangent in the quotas department. I can't tell you how many times I heard a minority student at my college express a deep-seated concern that white folks believed they were only there because of quotas. This is incredibly damaging. Some people argue that we have to make allowances for people who are disadvantaged, and that quotas are a way to do that, but I think they're doing this at the wrong level. We should be helping people from elementary school on to give them the skills and education they need to meet whatever standard the university chooses to set.

On another level, one I can relate to more since I am actually a member of this "minority" group, is the idea of quotas and lower physical standards for women in professions that require a lot of physical strength, such as firefighting. This is ludicrous. If you had a 5'5", 120-lb male who couldn't meet the firefighting requirements, he wouldn't get hired. Why should a similarly-sized woman get the position, then, unless she is able to meet the requirements?

Understand, I'm all for redefining roles and finding a place for women wherever possible. I'm sure there are jobs to be done that even a pathetic weakling like me can handle, since it's about brains as well as brawn. But if a job requires you to steadily aim a huge firehose with god knows how many psi of water pressure, you should be able to do just that, no matter what gender you are.

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