An American Idle

Because Mrs. Crankyjewishguy (CJG) is a big American Idol fan, CJG sometimes finds himself sucked in despite his best intentions. Take last night, for example. CJG had planned to watch something educational about the mating habits of fish on Animal Planet but got diverted. And he has to say, there is something oddly compelling on what is, after all, just a huge, overhyped talent show.

Steven Tyler has proven to be surprisingly funny though it may be to his comic advantage that he looks like a gay chimpanzee or Mick Jagger's long lost second cousin. CJG was never an Aerosmith fan, and had only a passing familiarity with Tyler before, but he seems kind and quirkily charming.

Jennifer Lopez projects an air of authenticity rare in such a big star. She came from humble beginnings in New York City and maybe she really hasn't forgotten where she comes from, who knows? But what was it with the make up and the lighting last night? It looked like someone had surgically implanted a collar stay on top of her nose bone. There was this weird flat plane to her nose neither Mr. or Mrs. CJG had ever noticed before. In fact, CJG can't remember a single performance from last night but dreamt about J-Lo's nose.

Which brings us to Randy Jackson. CJG used to think the acerbic Simon Cowell was the show's sine qua non, which is lawyer talk (or Latin) for "that without which," as in Simon Cowell was the man without which American Idol would wither and die. But it proved not to be the case. Randy Jackson is now "the man," and CJG finds him interesting to watch because he seems like he'd be a fun guy to hang out with. Not that CJG wouldn't mind hanging out with J-Lo, mind you. Steven Tyler? Not so sure.

Anyway, CJG hasn't quite gotten to the point where he's voting for his American Idol, but if he were he'd vote for himself.

P.S. Don't write to CJG and tell him there's a mis-spelling in today's headline. There isn't. CJG is just clever.

Trumped Again!

You know, crankyjewishguy (CJG) keeps trying to move on past dumping on Michelle Bachmann, Half Baked Alaska and Donald Trump, but they're the gift that just keeps giving.

In his latest ramble about Barack Obama's birth certificate, Trump trotted out his own and wondered why, if he could produce his in an hour, Obama wasn't producing his. This is Trump's birth certificate:

But there's a slight problem, as a New York City official pointed out. It has neither the raised seal, nor the signature of the Registrar of Births that an official New York City birth certificate would have. CJG thinks this counts as a major gaffe by Richie Rich. Now, CJG doesn't doubt Trump was born in New York, with both a silver spoon and his foot in his mouth; either that or he comes from another galaxy and is using that combover to conceal antennae. But he does think maybe it's time for him to shut-up about Obama's place of birth and stick to simply bragging about himself as usual. Seriously, can anyone imagine this guy running the country?

The Energy Future

Every time there's some huge calamity -- think Japan's nuclear crisis, the BP oil spill -- you always hear that somehow the operators and owners got all the regulatory permissions they needed and passed all the inspections, that all kinds of fancy plans were in place in case of an accident, that the threat to public health is low, yada yada yada. Yet, somehow, no one in Japan considered the effects of a tsunami in that quake prone country where the word tsunami comes from. Yesterday, a Japanese seismology expert said he warned years ago that the affected Fukushima Dai-ichi plant was vulnerable to a tsunami and no one paid any attention. Now we have trace amounts of radioacative iodine in waters in Massachusetts that have traveled all the way from Japan. Given the extraordinary consequences of a nuclear power plant disaster, can we really take any comfort in the fact that most of these plants have operated for decades without incident? And does anyone really believe the assurances of those in the industry who tell us everything is secure? Remember the BP plan for the Gulf that had provisions for protecting seals and walruses which can't be found anywhere near the Gulf of Mexico? That language was just cut and pasted from another "plan."

Policemen near the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant.

You'd think we'd have learned by now that those with a vested interest -- including politicians who receive large donations from those interests -- have zero credibility when it comes to reassuring the public of anything related to those interests. Yet, we keep seeing the same sad scenario play out again and again.

A tsunami like the one that struck Japan earlier this month may be a one in a thousand year event, but there are plutonium isotopes that remain highly radioactive for 24,000 years. Do you like those odds?

Given the potentially catastrophic human and economic consequences of a nuclear power plant accident, and the known harmful effects of carbon on human health and climate, wouldn't it make sense to follow China's lead and seize the enormous economic opportunities of clean, renewables such as wind and solar? There's no free lunch when it comes to energy, but carbon and nuclear are the past: wind and solar have to be the future. CJG knows today's post wasn't funny, but there's nothing funny about what's happening in northeastern Japan at the moment.

A Tribute to Dr. Seuss

When the national memorial to Theodore Geisel, alias Dr. Seuss, was dedicated in his hometown of Springfield, Massachusetts in June of 2002, The Christian Science Monitor asked crankyjewishguy (CJG) to cover the dedication ceremony. (They didn’t know CJG by that name, of course.) CJG loved Dr. Seuss as a child, and no books were more fun to read to his own children when they were young than Dr. Seuss’, so he was thrilled by the assignment. There was one catch: the editors wanted the story, with all the key facts, told in verse. Here is the story, reprinted here for your enjoyment.

I am here!

Here I am!

With Horton the Elephant, Yertle, and Sam.

We didn’t come here for green eggs and ham,

But to open a memorial that honors the man,

Who penned hundreds and hundreds of wondrous pages

Still read out loud by kids of all ages.

With six million bucks, point nine from the feds,

His hometown chose to honor old Ted.

Geisel, that is, the man known to youse

As the incomparable, indomitable, beloved Dr. Seuss.

It’s titanic, stupendous, marvelous, gigantic!

What they’ve done in this city is truly fantastic!

From Hamden and Hampshire and Northampton, too,

They came far and wide to this most unusual zoo.

From here to there, from hither to yon

Giant bronze sculptures adorn a green lawn.

There’s The Grinch, and Thidwick, and a book ten feet tall,

And, no, that’s not all (no, that’s certainly not all);

There’s The Cat (in the Hat), The Lorax, and Max

Said the city’s good mayor, it’s a fine use of your tax.

Senators and congressmen heeded the call,

To sing Seuss’ praises here on the mall,

Proving once again that to many a pol,

A ceremony is a ceremony, no matter how small!

Sixteen years in the making, this garden delightful

Seems sure to please even the frightful,

From toddlers and tots, on up to oldsters,

They’ll come in their strollers, their bikes and their roadsters.

Say there, young man, can you tell me your name?

Well, Xadrian Gonzalez, how ‘bout a game?

Which book of Seuss is the best, if you please?

Really? You don’t say: “Green Ham and Cheese!”

And you little girl, Miss Olivia Malone,

In that big bronze chair sitting all alone,

Tell me, pray tell me, when it comes to Seuss,

Which of his books gets the most use?

“The Cat in the Hat” and “The Grinch” so you say?

May your heart grow three sizes this fine sunny day!

From Greenwich to Guam, from Greece to Gibraltar

Stockholm, Seattle, and North East Tidewater,

From Phoenix to Fez, St. Pete to Geneve

Four hundred million copies, can you believe?

(Oh. Yes, don’t forget, that includes Tel Aviv!)

His books are great fun, there’s no doubt about that,

But there’s much more to Seuss than a cat in a hat.

Save the environment! Raise every voice!

Stand against bigotry! Rejoice! Rejoice!

An icon, a treasure, a muse to the nation,

A tradition passed on to the next generation.

Lap to lap his words have been read,

To countless small children all snuggled in bed.

So, whether you’re one or a hundred and two,

This National Memorial may be for you

Indeed, I dare say, this place is a blast!

And to think that I saw it in old Springfield, Mass!

There She Goes Again

As a post-script to my last post, at an appearance before conservatives in Iowa yesterday, Congresswoman Michelle Bachmann,who has of late shown an appalling ignorance of basic facts about American history, took a shot at President Obama saying, the U.S is now "engaged in a third Middle East war. Talk about March Madness. Can anyone see Jimmy Carter?"

The first two Middle East wars she is apparently referring to are the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq started during the Bush Administration and which, thanks to careful planning and brilliant strategy, are now dragging into their second decade. But if you're a Republican congresswoman with no grip on reality, the first two also get put on Obama. She plays the same game on the economy: it's Obama's fault the economy hasn't created in two years the 8 million jobs lost under Bush who was president for eight. It matters not that the economy under Obama is creating jobs and hemorrhaged them under Bush. For Bachmann, there is no history before January 20, 2008.

Crankyjewishguy (CJG) really hopes Bachmann runs for president because the more she says, the more ridiculous she appears. But, CJG also knows that there isn't anything Bachmann could say, no matter how inane, ill-informed, or plain old dumb that would put a dent in her support among those who currently adore her, which says a lot about both her and those supporters. When you live in your own world where up is down and two plus two equals five, it simply doesn't matter what you say. There will always be those who think you're a math genius.

War and Peace

Here's the question crankyjewishguy (CJG) is turning over and over this morning. Why is it that when a Republican is president other Republicans, and a lot of Democrats, will follow like lemmings as the president plunges us into an ill-advised war based on ginned up evidence that will cost the country trillions and keep us at war for more than a decade, all without a declaration of war, and, oh, by the way, if you oppose the president or the war you are an unpatriotic, French-style sissy, but when a Democratic president authorizes air strikes in say, Libya or the former Yugoslavia, there's a huge outcry about the president not getting a declaration of war, lack of mission, lack of a clear strategy etc. etc. etc. If you'll recall, a common refrain before the Iraq war was, "he killed his own people." Now that Quaddafi or however the fuck he spells his name is killing his own people that's not a good reason anymore. CJG isn't taking a side one way or the other about the strikes in Libya, he just wonders about the ridiculous double-standard Republicans apply to questions of war and peace.

Trump That!

Donald Trump. The Pillsbury Dough Boy of American politics is at it again, and yes, crankyjewishguy (CJG) meant "dough" as a double entendre.

What is it with this guy? He's making sounds like he's going to run for president as if what this country needs is some reality TV clown with big with hair and a bigger mouth which, come to think of it, sounds like another Republican who might be running for president. The guy is a braggart: did you you see the TV interview he did from his private jet, the one with some original 18th century art masterpiece hanging in the passenger cabin, where he told the reporter he went to the best college, was really smart and has done tons of brilliant deals? How he could solve the Somali pirate problem with a few ships and "a good admiral?" He sounds like the obnoxious kid in your junior high school with the rich daddy and all the latest toys. And he keeps wondering why no one seems to have known Obama when he was growing up in Hawaii. Do you know anyone who knew Donald Trump growing up in New York? Anyone who actually liked him?

But Trump is going to have one huge problem on the campaign trail, and that's staying out of the wind because anything more than a slight breeze and that ridiculous combover he's got on top of his head is going to make him look like a circus clown. Believe CJG, it's not going to be pretty.

Seriously, what does he think
 when he combs his hair in the morning?

We Are (Probably) Not Alone

A recent study by NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory has concluded that there are two billion, that's billion, Earth-like planets just in our own galaxy that could be capable of sustaining life. Two billion planets in the neighborhood and this woman had to appear on ours?

Alien from Alaska arrives on Planet Earth

pretending to be a Jew. Note the necklace.

Crankyjewishguy (CJG) doesn't like to pick nits, but what does a laboratory devoted to "jet propulsion" know about this subject? Maybe the NASA Laboratory for Finding Life Forms in the Universe, but the Jet Propulsion Laboratory?

Regardless, CJG thinks this is pretty stunning information because it would seem, on the face of it, to mean that the chances are very high that we are not alone in the Universe. After all, there are billions of galaxies out there, too, and if they have billions of Earth-like planets that means there are, oh, a gazillion planets where there could be intelligent life, unlike Earth where signs of intelligent life can be hard to find. All his life CJG has been dying to know if there is life on other planets and he is now creeping toward 60, so he'd appreciate it if any aliens out there would make themselves known to us relatively soon. But before they get here, we really should straighten the place up a bit. Between the oil and sludge fouling the Gulf of Mexico, radiation leaking from reactors in Japan, and New Jersey, that's right, just New Jersey, the place looks like a dump.

You think they could have at least vacuumed the carpets?

On a somewhat related note, you may have seen that while visiting Israel yesterday for what must have been a very important meeting with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu,  Half Baked Alaska was wearing a Star of David necklace (see photo above). Now, can you imagine New York Senator Chuck Schumer wearing a cross to The Vatican? Or CJG wearing one to Doyle's Pub in Boston? It's one thing for non-Jewish men to wear a yarmuckle inside a Temple, that's required of all men in many synagogues and is a sign of respect for custom. But jewelry to a meeting? Please. CJG sure hopes she takes it off next time she's field dressing a moose because even though moose are kosher it just wouldn't look right. We'd go straight to the meat counter and buy it pre-wrapped.

Ask Crankyjewishguy Vol.8: Cell Phone Etiquette

Today's letter comes from a reader in Jacksonville who writes that he saw a story that rude cell phone behavior is on the rise and asks, "in your opinion, what rules should apply to cell phone use in public places? I know cell phones are one of crankyjewishguy's (CJG) pet peeves."
Signed, On Vibrate in Jacksonville.

Dear On Vibrate,
CJG is going to skip over your choice of moniker because he promised Mrs. CJG he wouldn't use his blog to indulge in sexual innuendo, but he's really glad you asked this question because he's been looking for a reason to codify his cell phone rules to live by. So, here we go (when in public, of course; do whatever the hell you want in your own house):
1. Silence the ringer. CJG is constantly being startled in parking lots by cars that insist on blasting their horns when locked by remote control, and by obnoxious and loud ring tones. The world isn't a phone booth; don't treat it as such.
2. Absolutely no cell phone conversations in elevators. Is there anything worse than being stuck with some loudmouth yakking with his girlfriend, mother or boss for 20 floors? If the people around you have no escape, have the courtesy of not sharing your private conversations with them.
3. Public restrooms. Short of soliciting sex in a public restroom, this really is no place for a cell phone conversation. When CJG sees guys at urinals with their phones tucked between their shoulder and ear, he prays the offender drops the phone because he wants to see if he's desperate enough to fish it out of a public urinal.
4. Restaurants. If we wanted to have dinner with you, as opposed to next to you, we'd have invited you over. So, don't ruin our evening out with your meaningless babble. And have you ever looked at yourself? Is there anything ruder than ignoring the dinner company at your table to talk to someone who didn't even show up? And if you're alone, maybe you should ask yourself why.
5. See that four year-old desperately trying to get your attention, the one pulling on your arm and yelling, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" He's wondering why your %&@*ing cell phone is more important than his getting to a bathroom before he wets himself. So, when you are with your kids, pay attention to them, not your friend Jackie whose telling you about the Pilates class she's in right now.
6. You are not as good a driver as you think you are, and being on the phone isn't making you any better. This really is a no-brainer that few people seem to get. Really, believe CJG, it can wait until you aren't behind the wheel of a three-ton mass of metal traveling 70 mph down a busy highway.

Save the Planet? Americans Say "No"

Sorry, crankyjewishguy (CJG) was missing in action there yesterday, a victim of March Madness. There sure were a lot of close games yesterday, enough to drive CJG's younger son, who has $10 in a school pool, crazy because he's already, mentally anyway, spent the $700 he stands to win if his "bracket" tops those of 69 other kids. CJG isn't sure of this type of gambling is sanctioned by the school so he is declaring an area that comprises the high school campus an Indian reservation.

Now, what's chapping CJG's ass today is that a recent poll shows that by the widest margin in three decades, Americans say economic growth should take priority over protecting the environment. The spread is 54% to 36%.

What troubles CJG is that in the long-term we ain't gonna have much of an economy if we let the environment go to hell. Just take a look at the price, human and economic, Japan is paying for building six nuclear reactors in one of the worst earthquake zones on Earth. Even more to the point, clean energy technology offers one of the greatest economic opportunities of our lifetime, and we're still sitting here, lagging way behind the Chinese, weighing the fossil fuel/nuclear options. Long-term thinking in Washington is defined as two years, or the greatest distance between now and the next election. Even college basketball coaches building a program have a longer frame of reference than that. Yup, we're in March Madness alright.

Some Thoughts on College Admissions

When crankjewishguy (CJG) applied to college sometime in the middle part of the last century, he was asked some interesting questions. This was in the day when you visited most of the colleges you were applying to and had an interview with a member of the admissions committee. At one Ivy League school, CJG won't say which one except to note that its name is the same as the color as some of his shoes, he was asked what he thought of life insurance and life insurance salesmen. As a callow 17-year-old CJG was non-plused by this questions and it's only with the benefit of decades of hindsight that he realizes that this was a trick question designed to test how well he handled a curveball. Not very well apparently because he didn't get into that college on a hill and had to settle for another college where they don't teach life insurance. But at the college he did attend, the dean of admissions was known to have someone from maintenance seal the window in his office and then ask prospective students to open it so he could gauge how they handled the dilemma.

If you have college-age kids, or are going through the college application process now, you know it's become much more sophisticated and anxiety producing than in CJG's day. It's also become much less personal. The college interview is a relic, except for the alumni interview, most of which, from CJG's observation, take place in Starbucks. They are easy to spot: it's usually a strained conversation in which a nervous kid is asked whether he or she has any questions for the interviewer whereupon the kid pulls out a few painfully obvious questions about what the person studied, whether they liked the school, and so forth, as if the experience there in 2012 will be the same as it was in 1968. This is usually the signal for the alum to spill his or her life story to a kid forty years their junior who is listening, sort of, but only because he or she desperately wants in.

Once they have your SAT scores, if they require them -- and who scores high and doesn't send them in -- and your grades, it seems to CJG that the modern application could be boiled down to a few simple questions:

1. Do you have a name? If so, write it here: _________________________

2. Have you ever read a book?

3. Do you know what a book is?

4. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the highest, how badly do you want to come to college here?

5. Can your parents muster $200,000 over the next four years?

That about covers it, CJG thinks, and we'd all save a whole lot of time.

Yikes!

As readers of crankyjewishguy (CJG) know, last week he and his older son took a Great American Road Trip down Highway 1 along the California coast. It's a harrowing drive at times; the road hugs the great cliffs of Big Sur and there's often not even a guardrail between you and the pounding surf hundreds of feet below. Not that you should do it anywhere, you absolutely shouldn't, but this is about the last place to text and drive. This road demands your full attention. But this morning, CJG is thinking about fate because yesterday a 100 foot stretch of Highway 1 near Big Sur looked like this:

Now, this is a tiny, miniscule calamity considering what the poor people of Japan are enduring; their nightmare is going to be a long one and their suffering is, quite literally, beyond comprehension. And, incredibly, no one was driving this stretch of Highway 1 when the road collapsed, or was speeding along unaware until they hit what has to be the world's largest pothole. So, no one as hurt and no one died, so it really isn't a calamity at all so much as a massive inconvenience for nearby residents because there's no viable alternative to Route 1 and it's going to take months to fix. But it does give you pause when you realize that a few days here or there and you could have been very much in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Sue the Bastards!

Oh, now this is really rich. A New Yorker named Nicole Imprescia is suing the York Avenue Preschool seeking a refund of $19,000 in tuition she paid (yes, that's 19 grand for a pre-school) after pulling her four-year-old daughter out of the school after just three weeks. Imprescia claims that her "very smart" daughter's chances of getting into an elite private college, presumably in 2024, were jeopardized because the pre-school was not adequately preparing little Lucia for the entrance exam required to get into one of New York City's elite private elementary schools, which is to say, kindergarten. It seems that York Avenue Preschool was teaching kids one alphabet letter a week instead of advanced theoretical physics and allowing them to play instead of offering a college level course on Chaucer, which, crankyjewishguy (CJG) would have to say, you might have reason to expect for $19,000 a year.

This woman makes that Tiger Mom, the Yale law professor, Amy Chua, whose demands of her two children bordered on sadistic, look like Mr. Rogers, or at least Mrs. Rogers. Here's CJG's opinion: Lucia Imprescia will have no more than a one in a million shot at happiness because her mother is an idiot. Now, lots of children survive idiot parents, and vice versa, but can't you just imagine what a self-entitled, obnoxious, self-centered woman this is? CJG can just see her behind the wheel of her Lexus SUV, driving down the Fire Lane on Park Avenue while texting her lawyer.

By the way, CJG has an exclusive to share: he obtained little Lucia's first drawing after being pulled out of York Avenue Preschool and here it is:

Pretty good for a four-year-old, don't you think?

Hypocrites

From the "Did He Really Say That Department," former Speaker of the House and presidential aspirant Newt Gingrich told the Christian Broadcasting Network that his past extramarital affairs were the result of his loving his country so much. Don't believe crankyjewishguy (CJG)? Then see for yourself. One of the wives he cheated on, by the way, was suffering from cancer. Can you imagine how much you'd have to love your country to do that? There are young women and men dying on battlefields half way around the world because they love their country, and others working with the poor or marginalized. But old Newt really made the ultimate sacrifice and a grateful nation thanks him. CJG is sure Newt's excuse will meet with widespread acceptance by American voters, especially the right wing zealots Newt is courting. After all, they were able to embrace Bristol Palin's teenage out of wedlock pregnancy for the simple reason that she didn't have an abortion. Thus, according to the logic, she personified the "family values" they claim to cherish so much. And Newt was, after all, just trying to start new families.

Funny, he doesn't look Jewish.

For another Republican hypocrite, we turn to New York Congressman Peter King, the one holding hearings on the radicalization of American Muslims, a hearing that smells like Act 2 of the McCarthy hearings. What makes King such a hypocrite here is that he was an ardent supporter of the Irish Republican Army, the terror group behind numerous deadly terrorist attacks in Britain in the late 20th century. But, as King explained, the IRA didn't target Americans and he since he loves America, who cares? Seriously: are these people for real?

Funny, he doesn't look Jewish, either.

High Fidelity

OK, crankyjewishguy is back from his short break and thanks you for your indulgence. He hopes you made good use of the 45 seconds you spend reading CJG each day while he was away.

CJG's younger son turned 16 the other day, remarkably exactly 16 years after he was born, and to celebrate the entire CJG clan went to New York City to see Saturday Night Live (SNL) live and in person because Mr. 16 is enamored of television and all that goes into putting a television program on the air. CJG would not be surprised to see his son sitting in the SNL control room some day.

Before SNL, CJG et al. indulged themselves first at the Grand Central Oyster Bar and then at a legendary New York steak house called Keens on West 36th Street. Even by New York standards the steaks are expensive, but let CJG tell you, he's never had a better, more perfectly prepared steak. Keens is a clubby, intimate, low ceilinged place so CJG was dismayed when, two minutes after being seated, he realized the woman at the next table with the shrill voice and the ear piercing laugh found it appropriate to carry on ad nauseum at a volume that made it difficult for CJG to hear his wife and children who were sitting at the very same table with him. Not that her five companions were much better, though CJG would like to thank them for at least staying off their cell phones. In situations like that, CJG really lets it get the better of him and comes this close to saying something, politely of course, like "shut the fuck up...please," because if he's going to drop $250 on a dinner he feels he has a right to enjoy it 100%. To make matters worse, as friends of CJG know, CJG has voice issues of his own, the details of which you don't need to know, save to say that he has a lot of trouble being heard over ambient noise because he only has one functioning vocal cord. This is actually true. So, maybe he's a little more sensitive than the average person to people who abuse the privilege of having a full voice by using it beyond a reasonable level. In situations like that CJG always wonders: do these people have any idea what it's like to have to sit next to them? The answer is clearly "no" because if they did they would never venture out in public. Around the time CJG and his family got their desserts, the loudmouths at the next table had departed and it was so quiet you could hear CJG's spoon going through his creme brulee. Heavenly.

There are eight million people in New York City and
 at dinner CJG had to be seated next to this woman.

P.S. You may remember that a few weeks ago the Congresswoman from Neptune, Michelle Bachmann, said that the Founding Fathers worked tirelessly to end slavery, a massive mis-statement of American history that made every American with an IQ higher than 80 cringe. Well, she was at it again in New Hampshire over the weekend saying that the battles of Lexington and Concord during the Revolutionary War occurred in that state. Gag. There is, in fact, a town in New Hampshire called Concord, but the battles of Lexington and Concord took place in CJG's adopted home state of Massachusetts. CJG knows this for two reasons: first, he reads books, and second, he has personally visited the sites of those battles and seen the historical markers for himself. When she's not wrapping herself in the flag, Ms. Bachmann, who, by the way, home schooled all of her children, maybe she ought to wrap herself in a basic history book. And this woman wants to be President of the United States? Duh.

CJG is Taking a Few Days Off

As you may have surmised from the headline, crankyjewishguy (CJG) is taking a short sabbatical because he is still on the road for a few more days and needs a break from the rigors of blogging every day. So, check back next week and CJG will be up and running once again. Thank you for your patronage and your patience while CJG recharges his batteries.

Homeless in Santa Barbara?

Santa Barbara is certainly one beautiful city. It has an expansive, crescent shaped oceanfront from which you can see the majestic channel islands. Yesterday morning, hundreds of people were walking, running, skateboarding or biking along the paths that follow the shoreline through palm dotted parks under a cloudless, deep blue sky. The mountains that rise behind the city are impressive as are the fabulously extravagant homes in the hills that offer lush gardens and expansive views of the sea. Downtown is immaculate and fancy shops and eateries line the main drag, State Street. It's nearly picture perfect, but crankyjewishguy (CJG) was surprised to see that Santa Barbara has a huge homeless population that is ever-present downtown and in the oceanfront parks. But, maybe that shouldn't be a surprise in a city where the median price for a single family home is $1 million. If CJG lived here he'd be homeless, too. (To read more about homelessness in Santa Barbara, click here.)

CJG was surprised by the size of the homeless
population in affluent Santa Barbara.

Santa Barbara is a reminder that the gap between rich and poor in this country isn't really a gap anymore, but a huge chasm with a tiny percentage of the population in possession of 90% of all the wealth. And the rich...well, they keep getting richer. America's expansive middle class used to be one of its strongest virtues and something that separated us from the world's developing nations and banana republics (no, not the store.) Think about that the next time the Republicans go to the mat to protect the rich from having their taxes raised even a nickel and explain it to the huge crowd we saw outside the Santa Barbara Rescue Mission at dinnertime last night waiting for a meal amidst the abundance that is Santa Barbara.

Mellow Yellow

Sorry, crankyjewishguy (CJG) got a late start this morning owing to the fact that he spent a couple of hours walking along the beachfront in Santa Barbara where the sky is blue, the sun is shining, and the home prices are exorbitant. You see, CJG and his older son, the one who attends Harvard on St. Charles a/k/a Tulane University, have been spending some quality time taking one the great American road trips down the California coast. CJG figures, if your 20-year-old son is willing to spend a week with you (a) you've done something right as a parent and (b) seize the precious moment because it may not come again. There isn't much to be cranky about when the scenery is jaw-dropping, the air warm, and the seafood fresh. So, amigos, hasta manana. Tomorrow, CJG and son will be in L.A. That should give us plenty to complain about.

Ask Crankyjewishguy Vol.7: March Madness Explained

For reasons that elude crankyjewishguy (CJG) he seems to have as many readers outside the United States as inside, and since many of his posts are about U.S. politics and other topics that would seem to be of little interest to people in, say, Lithuania or United Arab Emirates, it's doubly puzzling. (Does anyone in those two countries even know who Charlie Sheen is?) So, CJG was bemused to find this letter in his mailbag from Sayid in Morocco:

Dear CJG,
I keep hearing that America has a month-long holiday called March Madness. Can you please tell me what is this March Madness and why it is such an important American holiday?
Sayid in Morocco

Dear Sayid,
Most Americans believe in two deities: one is the almighty dollar and the other is called college basketball, or sometimes college hoops. And even though college basketball is ostensibly played by college students, it is BIG BUSINESS in my country. Every March more than 60 college basketball teams are chosen to play in a tournament to determine who really has the right to shout "we're number one" for the next twelve months. In the weeks leading up the decisions by a committee about who will get to play in the tournament, Americans will spend billions of hours that could be better spent rebuilding our crumbling infrastructure or helping our fellow citizens in need arguing, discussing and predicting which college teams deserve to go to this annual ritual which we also call "The Big Dance" even though it's not a dance the way you might think of a dance in that no one actually dances. And highly paid "analysts," also called "bracketologists" for reasons that would take CJG another hour to explain, will dissect the strengths and weaknesses of the arguments for and against each team considered to be "on the bubble," which means maybe they will go to the dance and maybe they won't, unlike other teams that are considered "a lock," or who, by virtue of winning their conference championship get what is called "an automatic bid." Sayid, are you with me so far? Because after this CJG is going to explain baseball to you. Anyway, the point is that a huge number of Americans will be consumed by March Madness for the next four weeks all culminating in one final game, the outcome of which will have no discernible impact on the future of the planet. If all of this is too confusing, just refer to the chart below and everything will be perfectly clear.

Crazy Mike Huckabee: Did You Know He Grew Up in Mauritania?

The past week has made one thing very clear: the man who has the answers to America's biggest problems is Mike Huckabee, the former governor of Arkansas. He is the only politician with the courage and moral clarity to cut through all the clutter and get at what's really ailing America: Natalie Portman's pregnancy. By putting the unwed actresses's pregnancy where it belongs -- on the front pages of every major and minor news outlet in the nation -- Huckabee, who just happens to be flogging his new book, "The Hope of Audacity: My Childhood as a Peul Tribesman in Mauritania," also managed to take the heat off another floundering politician who made a major gaffe last week when he claimed, falsely, that President Obama grew up in Kenya -- a politician named Mike Huckabee. This is all part of a clever P.R. campaign, of course, because now everyone is wondering what ridiculous thing Mike Huckabee will say next and is paying unusually close attention to a man whose most notable accomplishment in recent years has been losing 110 pounds. Can you tell which of these photos was before and which was after? (No, that is not W.C. Fields in the top photo.)

The person who has to be most frustrated with the sudden interest in crazy Mike Huckabee is Half Baked Alaska. The former governor of Alaska hasn't been in the news for two or three days, which seems like an eternity given how her every inanity is typically given saturation coverage. It looks like the GOP presidential race is going to boil down to who can say the craziest things and generate the most controversy over issues that have nothing to do with making life better for average Americans. It used to be you had to watch Art Linkletter interviewing a half dozen 7 and 8-year-olds in his "Kids Say the Darndest Things" to get laughs like this. Now you just have to watch FOX News.

Hypocrite of the Week: Mitt Romney

Last night, Mitt Romney, the former governor of crankyjewishguy's (CJG) adopted home state of Massachusetts, who rolls like a tumbleweed through America (i.e. whichever way he thinks the political wind is blowing), once again blasted President Obama on the economy. Apparently, Mitt was at one of his vacation homes outside the solar system when Bush was president because since Obama took office the stock market has nearly doubled, the 800,000 jobs a month we were losing at the end of Bush's second term has been turned into job creation, most recently 190,000 new jobs last month, and unemployment, while still high, is the lowest it's been in two years.

Mitt Romney in New Hampshire turning right.

CJG didn't see last night's event, but if Mitt was true to form he was tying himself in rhetorical knots trying to explain to the right wing zealots he's now courting that the universal health care plan with a public option he put in place as governor doesn't preclude his being a fierce critic of the Obama plan, which is quite similar to the Massachusetts plan except that it doesn't have a public option because that, of course, would be like turning the United States into the Soviet Union with its gulags, death panels and Siberian work camps.

This Ken doll's constant shape-shifting is embarrassing to everyone except himself because Mitt's only bedrock conviction is that he deserves to be president. CJG will give him this, however: he stands one great head of hair above the other obvious contenders for the GOP nomination, but CJG is waiting to see how answers the three inevitable question that will determine whether he has what it takes to appeal to today's modern Republican voter: (1) which country, outside the United States, did Barack Obama grow up in; (2) on what day in history did God put human beings, fully formed, on Earth, and (3) why did God make the Earth flat when round would have been so much more practical?

From the Profound Irony Department

In what has to be one of the worst P.R. debacles of all time, two days ago the 575-pound spokesman for a Phoenix-area restaurant called the "Heart Attack Grill" died at the age of 29. Word is they are negotiating for the services of a new spokesman, Charlie Sheen, and plan to rename the restaurant the "Crack Attack Grill." Crankyjewishguy (CJG) wishes them well in their new endeavor.

Blair River, former spokesman for the Heart Attack Grill. Remarkably,
 he didn't die of a heart attack, but from pneumonia.

You Call this Health Insurance?

If you pay for your own health insurance, as crankyjewishguy (CJG) does, you probably get really cranky once a month when your health insurance premium is due; it's a bill that could easily be confused with the bill for your mortgage payment. CJG pays $1,600 a month for a plan that has $50 co-pays for office visits and a $500 family deductible for prescriptions, but, mercifully, all diagnostic tests are covered at 100%.

If the doctor doesn't charge you for an office visit,
Tufts Health Plan says your $50 office visit co-pay still applies. Huh?

Now, generally, CJG has been pretty happy with his health plan, which is provided by a company that shares a name with a small liberal arts college in Medford, Massachusetts that happens to be where his wife, and two of her siblings went to college, and whose mascot is a stuffed elephant. Oh, OK, it's Tufts Health Plan. But yesterday CJG got into it with Tufts over a reimbursement claim he filed for services rendered to his son, the one who is a sophomore at Harvard on St. Charles, otherwise known as Tulane University. CJG's son is covered for "urgent" care while away at school since no one within a thousand miles of New Orleans is an approved Tufts provider. Urgent care is care that could not be foreseen before the patient left the Tufts coverage area, and so far there's been no problem there. But in early December, CJG's son went to Student Health Services with a bad sore throat and three lab tests were performed and they determined he had strep. The total for the three lab tests was $85.

When CJG got the bill from Tulane, he sent it in with a claim form to Tufts to get reimbursed. The bill listed the three tests and the prices and also included a line that said "Regular Physician Appointment $0." You see, included in tuition are office visits to doctors at the Student Health Center, so CJG had, in effect, already paid that.

Now, two days ago CJG got a check in the mail from Tufts for $35 calculated by taking the $85 in lab work, which is covered in full under CJG's plan, and subtracting $50, the office visit co-pay. So, CJG called Tufts and spoke to a customer representative and a supervisor who insisted that even though the office visit was "billed" at zero, it was still "billed" and the $50 office visit co-pay therefore applied. When CJG pointed out that a "co-pay" means that the insurer, in this case Tufts, has also paid something -- hence the term co-pay -- and in this case they had not because there was no charge for the office visit, they said that's not the way they do it. If it's on the statement, even at $0, the co-pay applies. But on the statement Tufts sent with the check they actually subtracted the $50 on the lines for the lab tests. "That's the way the system works" and "that's they way we have to do it," they said, as if "the system" was set up by some foreign being that has since left the galaxy leaving Tufts with this system they have no choice but to live with exactly as is from now 'till eternity.

Well, bullshit, said CJG. You set up the system and you didn't "have to" set it up that way. You can set it up so that you honor your contractual commitment to pay 100% of all diagnostic tests. If they'd billed $25 for the office visit and done no lab work, by Tufts reasoning CJG would owe Tufts another $25.

Then CJG asked, what if he'd whited out the line for the office visit and sent the bill in, would Tufts have then paid the full $85 for lab work? Yes, they replied. OK, then, CJG will call Tulane and get a bill for the lab work only -- one that doesn't show an office visit billed at zero dollars -- and resubmit the claim which will probably cost you more to process (especially when you include the time we're arguing about this on the phone) than the amount you're trying keep from paying. So, CJG called Tulane and with ten minutes he had a revised bill by e-mail for the lab work only and today he's sending it to Tufts. It'll be interesting to see what happens. This is the kind of bullshit that can drive a cranky jewish guy over the edge, in which case Tufts will be paying for his mental health services.

Perhaps it should say, "no one does more to try and keep your money."

P.S. CJG is on the road again for the next week, this time to California. He can't promise he'll be posting every day. If this causes you anguish or distress, or makes you feel ill in any way, call Tufts Health Plan at 800-462-0224.

The Most Brilliant Idea Ever

While shvitzing heavily on his spin bike yesterday, crankyjewishguy (CJG) had an idea...and idea so brilliant it might just solve all of the world's problems (except for Rush Limbaugh) in one fell swoop. This brainstorm, which hit CJG while in third position (you spinners will know what CJG is talking about) and listening to The Who's Pinball Wizard at full volume, may make the invention of the personal computer look like the first Frisbee. Ready? Here it is. This guy...

...should become the new star of Two and a Half Men, and this lunatic...

...should become the next president of Libya. If you've been listening to these two rant the past couple of days it's a real toss-up trying to decide which one is crazier. Is it Quaddafi (there are so many spellings of this guy's name CJG just chose one, but it can also be Gaddafi, Ghadaffi. Khaddafi, Kaddafi, or Hanukah, among others), the man who travels with a buxom Ukrainian nurse and a cadre of stunning, uniformed female "bodyguards," who insists, despite abundant evidence to the contrary, that his people love him, or is it Charlie Sheen who has two "goddesses" who both sleep in his bedroom but in different beds and he gets to choose each night which one to sleep with and, by the way, these two women, one a former porn star, help take care of Sheen's two kids who, by the way, were removed from the Sheen home by police yesterday after which Sheen told the kids' mother that "this is not responsible parenting." CJG guesses he would know. Despite his very public complete crack-up, Sheen insists CBS should come on its hands and knees to get him back on his show and, by the way, he so fucking great they should kiss his feet and up his pay from a million to three million an episode. Frankly, just watching this asshole self-destruct on shows that don't have to pay him to appear is far more economical than watching him play a normal guy for half an hour a week at a million per.

Now that CJG thinks about, maybe his idea won't solve anything at all. It might even make matters worse.

A Groovy New VW Microbus? Not So Fast

O.K., fellow baby boomers and aging hippies: don't get too excited about this because there's no guarantee that Volkswagen is going to put this vehicle into production, but at the Geneva Auto Show this week (one presumes that's Geneva, Switzerland, not Geneva, New York), VW is showing off a new version of its much revered Microbus, the vehicle that moved more pot around the United States in the 1960s than a fleet of 727s belonging to a Colombian drug cartel. The new Microbus is electric powered and gets up to 186 miles on a single charge; about what the average hippie got on a single charge of whatever substance he or she was using for fuel in 1968. And instead of a bunsen burner for heat, the new version has a state-of-the-art climate control system which begs the question: why can't we deploy one for the entire Earth to head off global warming? There's also no need to hook up a turntable, receiver and a set of large Advent speakers in the new Microbus because the "entertainment system" is controlled by an iPad. It used to be that the entertainment system in a VW Microbus was a radio controlled by your friend Paul who was so stoned he kept hitting AM instead of FM and was always really bummed when they played the short version of "Light My Fire."

But crankyjewishguy's (CJG) beef with the new Microbus has less to do with the fact that it has all these fancy amenities that the old spartan Microbus lacked, and more to do with the fact that it would look very much at home in a circular driveway in Greenwich, Connecticut while the old version looked totally at home in a vacant lot in Oakland. Really. Compare this:

With these:

Seriously, are we talking about the same vehicle here? CJG thinks not and given the choice he'd pick the Groovy version over the Greenwich version any day.

Beware the Return of The Blob

Maybe you’ve heard enough about global warming already, but there’s one thing you probably haven’t heard: the massive hurricanes, inundated coastal cities, severe drought, epidemics and disruptions to the food supply that will result may be the least of our worries. Something else more ominous lurks out there. But, we’ll come to that in a moment.

With global temperatures at an all time high and huge ice shelves breaking free in the Arctic, CJG started to wonder: who was it, exactly, that first sounded the alarm on global warming? CJG’s exhaustive research revealed something surprising. It wasn’t Al Gore, the Sierra Club, or Rachel Carson. It was Steve McQueen. In 1958. That was the year the 28-year-old McQueen made his film debut as a teenager named, well...Steve, in the classic horror film, “The Blob.” Everything about it was horrifying, from the screenplay to the acting.

Steve McQueen: the canary in the
 coal mine on global warming.

The Blob, as you may recall, arrived from outer space in some kind of ball and began consuming humans at an alarming rate, getting bigger and bigger, but apparently no more satisfied, as it oozed around a small American town. Unfortunately, the Blob didn’t have the good sense to land in Washington, D.C. The Blob, which resembled a particularly extravagant Jell-O mold CJG’s mother made in 1964, threatens the town until Steve, in a moment of desperation – he’s trapped in the basement of a diner  – sprays the thing with a fire extinguisher. The Blob, or at least part of it, recoils. Steve then remembers that the Blob failed to follow him into the meat freezer in his father’s grocery store just five minutes earlier. At that moment it dawns on Steve that it’s the cold from the CO2 in the fire extinguisher that is the Blob’s Achilles heel, since it has heretofore been immune to bullets, a jolt of electricity, and a poor script. (This is rather odd for a creature that came from somewhere near Pluto where daytime temperatures top out around 380 degrees F. below zero, but never mind.)

Fortunately, the cops have patched a line through to the diner, and Steve tells them to get every fire extinguisher in town. Then they hose the thing into submission. With a single call, Police Sgt. Dave from Podunk is able to persuade the United States Air Force to fly the Blob to the Arctic and drop it there. Government sure was efficient then. Imagine giving FEMA the same job today. The Blob would still be in a trailer on the Gulf Coast.

Anyway, in a prescient moment at the end, McQueen declares the Earth to be safe from the Blob as long as the Arctic stays cold, which, in 1958, was taken to mean forever, and everyone laughs a self-assured laugh, sure they will never have to worry about The Blob again. This sentiment was surely reassuring to millions of people who thought they might die any minute in a Soviet nuclear attack. Today, of course, a Soviet nuclear strike seems about as likely as the Arctic melting did in 1958. Forget hurricanes, drought, and drowning cities. Now CJG is worried about the return of the Blob. Someone should alert the president.