The possible closing of a school is hard enough already. Compassion and sensitivity should be the order of the day.

For the last four years, my daughter has been a student at Noah’s Ark, Temple Beth Israel’s daycare and nursery school. In that time, our family has come to respect and adore the teachers who have taken such great care of our child and taught her so much. Noah’s Ark was the place where my daughter first spread her wings, made new friends without the help of her parents and learned to stand on her own two feet.

She loves her school with all her heart.

I have attended holiday services at the synagogue with my family. My daughter participates in Shabbat every Friday with the rabbis, who our family have also grown to love and respect.

In June, our daughter will leave Noah’s Ark to begin kindergarten. Even so, news that the school may close doesn’t upset us any less. Over the past four years, we have grown to care deeply about the teachers, administrators and children who spend their days in a place that has become a second home to my child.

In the end, finances may doom the school that we have grown to love. While I don’t pretend to understand the budgetary issues, I understand that businesses cannot be run at a loss forever. Perhaps something can be done. I hope so.

But here’s the thing:

Knowing that the possible closing of a school can be a difficult and painful process, involving children, parents, alumni and teachers, means that extraordinary sensitivity and compassion should be exercised at all times. But what Noah’s Ark task force member April Haskell said last Thursday night while addressing parents who gathered in hopes of saving their school was anything but compassionate.

Hartford Courant reporter Julie Stagis reported that Haskell told parents that “losing child care is something that ‘happens in life’ and that she didn't ‘stamp her feet’ when babysitters unexpectedly quit when her son was young.”

To compare trained and skilled educators with years (and in some cases decades) of experience to babysitters is wrong.

To compare the efforts of parents who want to save a school to stamping their feet is wrong.

To suggest that the loss of childcare is something that happens in life, akin to flat tires and spoiled fruit, demonstrates a lack of empathy and understanding.

These remarks come on the heels of President Claire Feldman’s letter to Noah’s Ark parents informing them that the synagogue could no longer afford to subsidize the school. Feldman explained that a task force had been formed, initially absent any parent, teacher or school administrator, that would decide the fate of the school in two weeks.

There are families who have sent their children to Noah’s Ark for ten years. There are children like my daughter who have spent most of their lives as students of the school. There are teachers who have spent 25 years teaching in Noah’s Ark classrooms.

The task force plans on spending all of 15 days deciding their fate.

This does not strike me as a sincere attempt to save the school.

Closing the school midyear also means that parents have missed preschool application deadlines and will struggle to find a new place for their children. It means that teachers will have a considerably more difficult time finding other teaching positions.

Had this task force been formed six months ago, perhaps warning could have been given and real solutions could have been explored.

Honestly, how many real solutions can be explored in two weeks? 

Moving forward, the leaders of Temple Beth Israel would be wise to demonstrate greater compassion and respect for the parents and teachers who have devoted years, and in some cases, decades, to this institution. Public relations matter. 

If Noah’s Ark must close, and I sincerely hope it does not, there is no reason to besmirch the reputation of this vibrant synagogue with thoughtless comments and a process that seems less than genuine.

Sheryl Sandberg made me feel like a misfit

I’ve watched Sheryl Sandberg’s TED Talk which inspired her book, Lean In, but I have yet to read the actual book, so it would be foolish of me to criticize any of the arguments that she makes therein.

I suspect that I will agree with a lot of what she argues in the book (which I have on audio and will listen to soon) but not all. I have some very specific thoughts on the behavior of men and women in the workplace that I suspect will clash with Sandberg’s ideas, but that is for a different day.  

However, in watching this follow-up to her initial TED talk and the book, I found myself annoyed by two of her statements.

Sandberg claims that less than 5% of men are accused of being too aggressive at work. She also says that she has never met a man who has been asked the question, ‘How do you do it all?"

I have been accused of being too aggressive at work many, many times, and I am asked, “How do you do it all?” almost daily.

If this is an exaggeration, it is of the slightest variety.

Is it true that women are accused of being too aggressive at work more often than men?

Maybe.

Is it true that women are asked how they manage to do it all more often than men?

Probably.

But the same kinds of generalizations and assumptions that harm women in the workplace should be avoided in regards to men, too, and I think Sandberg should know better.

My wife claims that I am an anomaly in both of these respects. She believes that my perceived aggression is the result of a workplace that is more than 90% female (which, if true, raises many other gender-specific questions), and she argues that the constant barrage of “How do you do it all?” is unique to me. 

While I doubt that it is unique to me, it is probably uncommon, but why alienate me and others like me with the implication that no man has ever been asked that question?

Also, I would like to ask Sandberg that if I am truly rare in both of these respects, what does this say about me?

Should I be leaning in more often, too? Am I, too, being marginalized in the workplace? If these are truly signs of a problem, how am I being negatively impacted as a man who experiences conditions similar to women, at least in these regards?

The needless shortening of words is cray tradge. It must stop

I’m going on the record as vehemently opposing the needless shortening of words.

This weekend I heard someone shorten champagne to champers. On the radio, no less.

Not only does this sound stupid, but it’s impossible to spell champers without confusing people.

Champers also has the same number of syllables as champagne, thereby nullifying any purpose of the reduction  and making me think that champers is probably a word used most often by douchebags.

Just say it aloud a few times:

“On New Year’s Eve, I think I’ll have a little champers.”

I feel stupider each time that I say it.

Even the dog thinks I’m an idiot.  

Other acts of word shortening stupidity include cray, cray-cray, hundo, tradge, whatevs, gorg, hilar, redonk, nevs, brill, bestie, and perhaps the worst of them all, totes.

No. Jelly is the worst. No, totes. No, jelly. 

There’s also the shortening of the phrase "the usual" minus the "ual," but I can’t begin to imagine how to spell that.

There are more. Many more. I’m sure you know lots of them. Hopefully you hate them as much as me. I’ll refrain from listing any more in fear of offending too many champers-drinking readers.

Then again, perhaps I am a hard-lined word completeist.

(I made that word up and am undecided about the final e. Thoughts?)

Maybe I need to be a little more flexible about the language. I understand that the English language is a living, breathing entity constantly undergoing change, but this does not mean that every change is good and needs to be accepted. For a short and terrifying moment in American history, tubular was a word that people were using to express the greatness of something, but except in small pockets of stupidity, that died quickly.

Perhaps this trend in needless word shortening will die a similar death.

Still, I am admittedly a hardliner. I’m not even comfortable using the word photo. I much prefer photograph, though I acknowledge that this is an extreme position to take.

But in general, the needless shortening of words needs to stop. You sound like an idiot. You sound ridiculous.

No redonk.

Microsoft can even ruin the bra.

When it comes to my computer, I’m not an Apple guy.

I don’t like to engage in long, heartfelt conversations about my laptop, which seems necessary if I were to purchase a Mac.

I lack the required smugness.

And despite all attempts, I have yet to achieve an orgasm over a reduction in buttons and the sleek design of brushed, anodized aluminum.

Bu Microsoft’s smart bra, which alerts women to their stress levels, so that they might avoid “emotional overeating” might finally force me to purchase a Mac.

Sometimes a company is so stupid and so offensive that I am incapable of supporting them any longer.

I hate Paul Mitchell, and I think you should, too. Please join me in my burning hatred for this company. It is deserved and necessary.

I had my hair cut yesterday. As I entered the salon, I saw this product on the shelf by the door. Row after row of it.

The contents inside these containers may make your hair lustrous and shiny, but that is irrelevant.

This is a terrible product. The message on this product is disgusting. I honestly can’t believe that it exists, and I can’t believe that women allow it to exist by continuing to purchase it.

The implications of the branding are clear:

Skinny is beautiful. “Skinny” is a compliment. You should feel good if someone tells you that you look skinny. You should be skinny or trying to be skinny.

I hate this so much.

There were so many other words that Paul Mitchell could’ve chosen for this product.

You look beautiful today.
You look pretty today.
You look strong today.
You look confident today.
You look amazing today.
You look perfect today.

Instead, the advertisers at Paul Mitchell went with skinny.

I hate this company so much for this decision. I hope you will choose to hate them with me.

I never, ever want my daughter to see this product. No little girl should ever see this product. No woman should see a message like this on the shelf. 

There are many, many ways to be beautiful in this world, and it occurs to me that skinny isn’t anywhere near the top of the list.

Paul Mitchell would seem to disagree, and I hate them for it. 

Please stop purchasing product. Please ask your friends and relatives to stop purchasing this product. If given this product as a gift this holiday season, return it immediately.

If you want to make your opinion heard, contact Paul Mitchell’s customer service line at 800.793.8790. Their hours are Monday through Friday from 11:00-7:00.

I will be calling tomorrow. Join me.

I’m not the only critic of the “Shoes off” policy. There are many other people out there just as judgmental and jerky as me.

I’ve taken some abuse for my position about removing shoes prior to entering a home. Criticism. Castigation. Metaphorical crucifixion, even.

If you’re not familiar, my position is this:

I readily remove my shoes without complaint when asked by the owner of a home, but I think the rule is stupid and rude. I would never say as much unless asked directly. When asked my opinion, however, I will always answer honestly. 

In contrast to my angry detractors, I’ve also received quite a bit of support for my position, by at least a three to one margin.

Most people who responded to my post on the subject agree with me, but those messages of support tend to be shorter and less emotionally charged than those who disagree.

This is unfortunately the nature of the world.

Recently, two people forwarded me similar pieces on the subject.

The Quick and Dirty Network’s podcast host, Mr. Manners, essentially feels the same way I do about the request to remove one’s shoes. While he doesn’t find the practice as annoying as I do and believes that guests should adhere to the host’s request, he adds:

“If you are going to have people over at your house, and you plan on requesting that people remove their shoes when entering, you have to first understand it will make some people uncomfortable.”

Exactly. I’ll comply with your request and will smile while doing so, but inside, I will be annoyed. Others will feel the same. Simply acknowledge this. Accept the fact that your request, when made in the United States, is not common or expected.

There’s nothing wrong with being different, as long as you don’t try to pretend that you’re not.  

In a post on Rage Against the Minivan, writer Jessica Gotlieb is quoted as saying:

“I’m disgusted when people want me to take my shoes off in their home. OK, I get it for upstairs areas or bedrooms or even if you're Japanese. But if you're my American friend who just wants a clean floor, forget about it. It's a power play and no, you don't get to undress me. My shoes are there to keep me comfortable, cute and free of your foot fungus."

The writer of the post expresses a similar sentiment:

I get that some people have germ issues, but it’s still rattling when requested of me as I walk into someone else’s house. Honestly? I have dry, old-lady feet and cracked heels. Sometimes I’ve chosen random socks to go under my boots because I didn’t think they’ve been seen. Sometimes I’m between pedicures. Sometimes my heels are dirty from chasing a kid around the block in my bare feet. My feet aren’t always “show-ready.” While other people find it to me more clean, I think walking around someone’s house in my bare feet is kinda gross.

I cite these articles as a means of demonstrating that I’m not the intolerant, angry lunatic that some people believed me to be when I expressed similar feelings.

At least I’m not the only intolerant, angry lunatic.

I’m more than willing to remove my shoes when requested. I’m more than willing to keep my opinions to myself. Just because I think your rule is rude and stupid doesn’t mean that I think you are rude and stupid.

It’s okay. We simply disagree on a footwear issue. It’s not the end of the world.

What annoys me most, however, is the person who thinks that asking guests to remove their shoes is normal, commonplace and even expected.

It’s none of these things.

Accept your outlier status. Embrace it. I’m forced to do so all the time. 

The preferred Thanksgiving Day meal time

I enjoyed a lovely and perfect Thanksgiving yesterday.

In the company of some of our best friends, we shared food, conversation and football. We chatted about our work and our children. We laughed at stories told from a year gone by. There was great debate over whether or not I am a hipster (I’m not).

In addition to the food and conversation, my son, Charlie, took more steps yesterday than he has at any other time in his life.

My daughter, Clara, who only eats fruits, breads, cheeses, yogurt, bacon (she doesn’t realize that it’s meat) and some vegetables, enjoyed a dinner slightly different than the rest of us and was understandably hungry when we arrived home that night,, but this was to be expected.

 

It was truly a perfect day.

This post is not meant to impugn the perfection of the day in any way, but the only thing that could’ve made the day better was a change in start time. I believe that noon is the ideal time for the Thanksgiving Day meal. I have hosted Thanksgiving many times in my past, and whenever I did, food was on the table as close to 12:00 as possible.

A noontime meal provides these key benefits:

1. The meal does not interfere in any way with football. The first game of the day kicks off just as you finish eating.

2. The fabled late day turkey sandwich is now a possibility and a necessity. When I hosted Thanksgivings in the past, I made sure to have the best breads and cheeses for these late day sandwiches, which were oftentimes better than the meal itself.

3. Desserts can be eaten much later in the day, after the meal has been better digested. There’s nothing better than eating pie two hours after the meal the first football game enters halftime.

4. It eliminates the need for the awkward pre-Thanksgiving Day meal. Rather than eating a lunch that doesn’t consist of turkey or ham or skipping lunch entirely in order to save room, make the Thanksgiving meal the breakfast, lunch and dinner of the day.

5. It affords a drinker who’s had one too many glasses of wine during the meal the time needed to sober up.

6. Best of all, it transforms Thanksgiving into a all day affair, which is what it should be. 

I realize that the noontime meal is a rarity. Other than the ones that I have hosted the holiday, I have never experienced one myself, but I would argue that the closer to noon, the better.

J. Bryan Lowder of Slate suggests that the perfect time for a Thanksgiving dinner is 8:00 PM, claiming that:

“the harsh winter light streaming violently through the windows casts an unappealing pall across (the meal). Candles cannot hope to compete with the sun, so everyone looks and feels washed out and, as a result, prone to petty palpitations and the flaring up of old resentments.”

Apparently Lowder dines in some horrible, post-apocalyptic world, so if this is the case for you and the appearance of the food and your guests is critical to the success of the holiday, perhaps an 8:00 PM meal is a good idea.

But for those like me who live in a world where winter light doesn’t violently stream, candles burn with a fairly consistent flame and my friends look good in almost any light, the noontime meal might be something to consider.

Yesterday’s hosts admitted that there was definite appeal to the noontime meal save one:

The need to rise at some ungodly hour to begin preparations.

While it is true that you may need to begin cooking the turkey as early as 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning, once the bird is in the oven, you can return to bed for a few hours and awaken to  house that already smells of Thanksgiving.

Not bad. Right?

I don’t know J. Bryan Lowder at all, and I’ve never read any of his work, but I don’t think I’d like to spend an evening dining with him anyway. The claim that “everyone knows that dinner—especially a dinner party—is served at the hallowed hour of 8:00 PM” is enough to make me think he’s at least a  pretentious snob and possibly worse.

This may not be a fair assessment at all, but all I have to judge is about 700 words.

Lowder’s only concession to his 8:00 start time is the admission that it’s inconvenient for anyone who has traveled from more than two hours away. But he also asserts that these people should probably be staying the night anyway.

Knowing nothing about this guy, I have to assume that he’s about 25 years-old, lives in Brooklyn, enjoys Thanksgiving with six other hipster friends in an apartment somewhere in Williamsburg, and may actually live on the set of HBO’s Girls. Lowder has no idea what “staying the night” might mean for a family of three or four with small children or a host whose home isn’t blessed with a guest room or even an elderly grandparent.

I know it’s hard to think beyond a two foot radius at times, but c’mon.

Unless your Thanksgiving excludes children, anyone over 55 and anyone traveling more than 30 minutes from their home, an 8:00 mealtime is simply insane.

I don’t even think a regular dinner party should begin at 8:00. But the again, I’ve never been very interested in what “everyone knows.”

This piece in Slate by Allison Benedikt is ridiculous link bait. It’s also offensive to my children.

I love Slate. I probably read Slate more than anything else on the Internet. But occasionally Slate publishes pieces that amount to nothing more than link bait, and Allison Benedikt’s piece entitled No Thanksgivukkah: The portmanteau holiday is bad for Jews and bad for America, is clearly one of them.

Bad for America? The hyperbole in the subtitle alone is ridiculous, and it’s an argument that she fails to address at any point in the piece.

Not once is her perceived threat to America discussed.

Pure, unadulterated link bait. I should stop right there. This alone should be indictment enough. But I’ll proceed, because I was so annoyed by this piece.  

As you may know, Thanksgiving and Hanukkah overlap this year for the first time in 125 years this year. This won’t happen for another 70,000 years, so even the need for making an argument like this is questionable at best.

Get over it, Benedikt. It’s one year.

But the rationale behind Benedikt’s objections are just as ridiculous, probably because link bait is hard to write. If it’s not hyperbolic nonsense, readers won’t click. But hyperbolic nonsense is difficult to pass off as rational. 

Benedikt has three objections to Thanksgivukkah. Here they are in the order that she presents them:

I don’t want my kids to think Thanksgiving is a “present holiday.”

And while Thanksgivukkah is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, I guarantee that every little Jewish boy and girl who gets a gift on Thursday will, going forward, expect gifts on the fourth Thursday of November—forever.

Ridiculous. Jewish children will receive presents immediately after the lighting of the candles as a part of Hanukkah,, as it has been done every year before. The traditional will remain the same, except that it will be buffered by turkey and stuffing. Unless you wrap the child’s gift in the turkey carcass, it will be crystal clear that these presents have nothing to do with the Pilgrims, cranberry sauce or football.

Even if there are children who are stupid or monstrous enough to expect gifts the following year, they will not receive them, thus ending all future expectations.

As parents, we say no and move on.

And let’s be realistic. This isn’t going happen. Perhaps the most demonic and materialistic children might expect gifts for one additional year, but these monsters are few and far between, and their expectations will only last one year. For children of such ill repute, this kind of  disappointment is probably needed and deserved.

I also find it  fairly offensive to assume that my children will expect gifts on Thanksgiving next year, which Benedikt does when she “guarantees” that “every little Jewish boy and girl… will expect gifts on the fourth Thursday of November—forever.”

Hyperbole? Probably. But don’t lump my children into your exaggeration. I am confident that many, many little Jewish girls and boys are smart enough to understand the difference between the two holidays, even when they overlap, including my own. Leave my kids out of your link bait. You insult them and all their sensible brethren when you do so. 

Sweet and sour braised brisket with cranberry sauce is an abomination.

The argument here is that Jewish food and Thanksgiving Day food does not mix well.

I realize how important food is to the Jewish tradition, but the need to bifurcate these food items lest they be ruined is obviously stupid.

Because my favorite thing about Thanksgiving is that it’s secular.

Allison Benedikt is a Jewish woman married to an atheist man who celebrates the traditions of Christmas. This describes our family as well. My wife is Jewish, and I am a reluctant atheist who loves Santa, Christmas trees and holiday music.

Benedikt struggles with the issues surrounding these religious differences, as did her parents for a time. She expresses as much on a recent podcast, and it’s also hinted at in her piece.

But this sounds like much more of a personal problem for Benedikt than one that impacts a large number of people. It’s really not hard to differentiate between the two holidays, even when they fall on the same day.

It’s really not hard at all.

Besides, in my experience, Hanukkah is celebrated in most Jewish homes for about 15 minutes every night.

Maybe longer if dinner is part of the celebration.

Light some candles, say a prayer, open a gift, and perhaps eat a traditional Jewish meal on one or more of the nights. In fact, I have been told on many occasions (sometimes with great vehemence) that Hanukkah is actually a minor Jewish holiday that has only gained notoriety because of its proximity to Christmas and the desire for retail establishments to capture the Jewish consumer as well.

The overlap between the two holidays is hardly daylong. 

Benedikt suspects that she is not alone in her desire for the secular and the religious to remain separate, and I agree. But I also think that she’s in a minority, and it’s a minority that has yet to work through their religious differences with themselves and their spouses. When it’s “a relief it is to have this one major holiday that isn’t in some part about what I am and my husband is not (Jewish), or what he is and I’m not (Christmas-celebrating),” you haven’t exactly embraced the religious diversity in your home.

Instead of worrying about explaining to your kids why mom believes this and dad believes that, why not just embrace a multi-religious view in which all religious views are treated equally, absent any pressure for anyone to conform?

If that seems too radical, remember that this threat to Jews and America will not happen again for another 70,000 years.

Grin and bear it for 24 hours.

The Pope and an old lady in parking lot

On Saturday morning an older woman spotted me wearing gym shorts in a parking lot and said, “Put some pants on! Who do you think you are?”

As with all rhetorically rude questions, I answered as specifically as possible. “I’m Matthew Dicks. Kind of a strange question, but would you like to see my driver’s license.”

To her credit, she smiled.

In my defense, I wear whatever the hell I want and often dress for where I will be and not the brief interludes between my car and my destination place.

Also, I was going to the gym after my shopping was done. I was dressed for exercise.

It turns out that she wasn’t the only older person complaining about the clothing choices of strangers last week.  

On Sunday the Pope was overheard shouting, “It's cold! Are you nuts?” at  someone wearing short sleeves in winter.

Old people can be so annoying when it comes staying warm. Just because your body is old and can’t keep you warm anymore doesn’t mean you should impose your clothing expectations on others.

Look! An airplane! Amazing! Also the Toyota Camry you just plowed into.

It’s clever. Genius, even. But I worry about the kind of interactive billboard that distracts the driver’s eyes from the road any longer than necessary.

Oy. I sound like an old man. 

Juicing is dumb. But I didn’t say it.

This may come as a surprise, but every so often, I don’t write something in fear that it may offend readers. I know. Based upon some of the things that I’ve written in the past, can you imagine how awful these things must be in order for me to avoid saying them?

Here’s an example:

Last week I wanted to write a piece about juicing. Specifically, I noticed that so many of the juicers who I know are juicing or have juiced are lost souls who lack sufficient self esteem, self confidence or direction in life. They tend to be people who latch onto every latest fad, dietary or otherwise, in a desperate attempt to find the missing piece of a puzzle that’s missing more pieces than they know or are willing to admit.

Juicers often talk about the mental awaking and spiritual enlightenment that comes with juicing. Juicing programs have names like Renovation, Excavation, Glow, Clean, and LOVE Deep. While the idea that juicing can do any of these things is nonsense, it explains why everyone who juices secretly despises their lives:

Happy, confident people don’t need to glow. They don’t require any spiritual awakening. They are not seeking renovation, excavation or love at the bottom of a bottle.

No one juices because they like juice. They juice to become better people.

This, of course, is absurd.

While the idea that all juicers feel like this admittedly an exaggeration, it’s a slight one at best.

But I opted not to write this piece, in fear that I might offend juicers everywhere. Perhaps there are some truly self-actualized juicers who don’t think the world is treating them unfairly. There may be juicers in the world who don’t feel undervalued, ignored, underutilized and under confident.

Perhaps there are some happy juicers out there after all.

But I chose not to write the piece, feeling like doing so would only annoy a large segment of people.

Less than a week later, Katy Waldman of Slate wrote the damn thing for me. Her piece, entitled Stop Juicing: It’s not healthy, it’s not virtuous and it makes you seem like a jerk, attacks juicing on a number of levels, and while she doesn’t spend as much time on the psyche of the juicer as I might have, she feels essentially the same about juicing that I do:

It’s stupid. And if you’re doing it, shut up about it. No one cares.

I just wish that I had said it first.

The greatness of Guess the Animal and the stupidity of Freeze Tag.

After running around the house ten thousand times playing tag with my daughter and exhausting myself, it’s always good to know that I can stop all the chasing with a suggestion that we play a game called Guess the Animal.

Whoever taught my daughter this simple game was a genius. I’d give you a hug if I knew who you were.

I’d like to do something decidedly different to the person who taught my daughter to play the two person version of Freeze Tag.

Freeze Tag was always a stupid game. The two person version is downright idiotic, and yet it’s my daughter’s favorite game at the moment.    

It’s okay to make fun of fat people, but only if they are really, really fat.

Sarah Palin stated that although she is against bullying, it's understandable people comment on New Jersey Governor Chris Christie's weight because it's "been extreme."

Apparently there a designated threshold on mocking people who are overweight, and Chris Christie exceeds it.

I’m not sure what that threshold is, but thankfully Sarah Palin does. 

Palin has a new book out entitled Good Tidings and Great Joy: Protecting the Heart of Christmas.

It’s not often that I advise people to not buy a book, but based upon her comments about Christie’s weight, she may not be qualified (as has been the case with most things that Sarah Palin does) to comment on the spirit of Christmas and the notion of good tidings.

It’s okay to make fun of fat people, but only if they are really, really fat.

Sarah Palin stated that although she is against bullying, it's understandable people comment on New Jersey Governor Chris Christie's weight because it's "been extreme."

Apparently there a designated threshold on mocking people who are overweight, and Chris Christie exceeds it.

I’m not sure what that threshold is, but thankfully Sarah Palin does. Maybe she’ll share that magic number with us sometime soon.

Palin has a new book out entitled Good Tidings and Great Joy: Protecting the Heart of Christmas.

It’s not often that I advise people to not buy a book, but based upon her comments about Christie’s weight, she may not be qualified (as has been the case with most things that Sarah Palin does) to comment on the spirit of Christmas and the notion of good tidings.

Crying at work

The Telegraph asks: Is it ever OK to cry at work?

Sheryl Sandberg says yes. Nigella Lawson says no.

I agree with Nigella. I have no idea who she is, but I agree with her anyway.

Other than tears of sadness upon saying goodbye to graduating students or retiring colleagues, I have cried at work exactly once in my life. It happened while managing the opening shift at a McDonald’s restaurant in Hartford, Connecticut about 18 years ago.

At the time, I was attending Trinity College and St. Joseph's University more than fulltime while working more than fulltime at McDonald’s and part-time in Trinity’s Writing Center in order to make ends meet.

A busy time in my life to say the least.

And it was exam week.

When I arrived at work at 4:30 in the morning for my opening shift, I hadn’t slept in more than 48 hours because of the mountains of end-of-semester work that I was attempting to complete. While handing food out the drive-thru window, I started to cry. I wasn’t feeling sad or even overwhelmed. I was simply exhausted. One of my employees turned to me and said, “What’s the matter?”

Between sobs, I said, “Nothing. I’m just really tired.”

My tears were a physical reaction to a lack of sleep.

Other than that moment, I have not cried in the more than 25 years in the workforce. The reason I have not cried is simple:

I have yet to face a workplace situation that might cause me to cry. Regardless of the pressure, conflict or stress of a situation, work has never been so overwhelming to bring me to tears.

Unfairly so, perhaps, I tend to see people who cry at work as lacking perspective or significant life experience. Between their sobs, I find myself wanting to remind them that their job does not constitute a life or death situation and that there are far worse things in the world than a tough day on the job. We didn’t just lose a patient in open heart surgery. We didn’t just cause two planes to crash in midair. We didn’t cost 10,000 people their jobs because of a stupid financial decision.

Perhaps if I were in one of these positions, I would cry more often.

I’m not.

As a teacher, I have an enormous responsibility to the children who are in m classroom and the families who depend upon me to educate their kids. But a poorly delivered lesson, a less than glowing evaluation from an administrator or a meeting with a disgruntled parent will not make or break my school year, and it will not permanently damage the future of my students.

On most jobs, no single moment  on the job will cause irreparable damage to anyone. 

The same goes for every job that I have ever had. In fact, the highest pressure job that I’ve ever held is probably wedding DJ, where a faulty piece of equipment or the accidental press of a button can ruin a moment that a bride has been dreaming about for years.

As a wedding DJ, I have five or six hour to ensure perfection, and if I don’t, a day that has been planned for months or years can be ruined.

Still, I’ve never cried, perhaps because I’ve never ruined someone’s wedding day, but even if I did, tears would not help me in that situation. I would be too busy repairing, recovering and attempting to salvage the day as best as I could to spend a moment consumed with my own emotions.

I realize that it’s almost always wrong to base my opinion of this or any other subject on my own personal reaction. The way that I handle a situation is not automatically the correct way to handle a situation. It’s at the very least stupid and self-centered to think, “I don’t cry at work, and therefore it’s wrong and no one else should, either.”

But I’m stupid and self-centered, so I’m saying it anyway.

Save your tears for home. No one wants to see you sobbing at the workplace. It’s awkward. It makes people uncomfortable. Unless something legitimately terrible has actually happened (and it almost certainly hasn’t), crying only serves to undermine your credibility and demonstrate your lack of perspective.

Save your tears for something that really matters.

And if you must cry, take a walk or go to the restroom.

Seriously. No one wants to see it.

When was the last time you were bored?

Slate’s Gemma Malley makes the argument that extending a human beings lifespan would result in inexorable boredom.

Do we really want to extend the human lifespan indefinitely? Would it really make us happy?

To which I believe the answer is no, and no.

What we forget when we focus on extending our lifespan as long as possible is that things make us happy because they are rare, finite, and therefore valuable and precious. Diamonds. Newborns. Laughter. Great first dates. Great third dates. Sunshine. (I live in London. Trust me, sunshine is very rare and very finite.) Make these things available to everyone all the time, and they would lose their glow, become mundane.

Two thoughts:

1. Nonsense. This may be true for some, who seem perpetually bored even in their twenties, but certainly not for all.

2. Other than the times when I am forced to sit through a meeting, I can’t remember the last time that I was bored. I gave a talk to a Happiness Club last week, and the central theme of my talk was to say yes to everything that life has to offer, regardless of how busy you already are. 

“Be so busy that you wish you had more time for television.”

This is what I have done with my life. It occurs to me that my wife and I have not watched a single minute of television since last Thursday night.

More than a week ago.  

Don’t get me wrong. We want to watch TV. We enjoy watching TV. There are even shows on the DVR that we would like to see. We just don’t have the time to sit down on the couch for an hour.

Boredom has become an impossible-to-imagine concept in my life, and I’m willing to bet on my continued ability to fill my life to the brim regardless of how long I live.

So I’m willing to risk the inherent perils of eternal life. Bring it on.

Ending the engagement is sometimes the only correct choice

A question recently asked of Slate’s Dear Prudence:

Q. Always Take the Wife's Side?: I'm about to get married and am caught in an argument between my fiancée and my parents. This will be the first time in over five years that our whole family will be together. My parents want to take a picture of just them, me, and my siblings, and a family photo obviously means a lot to them. My fiancée heard this and became immediately offended. She says it's rude to exclude her on the day she "joins the family" and any family photo should therefore include her in it. We're not talking about taking an hour for a separate family photo shoot; my parents simply want one photograph of themselves and their children. I don't understand why my fiancée is so annoyed and now she's even more angry because I'm not supporting "her side." Should I back up my fiancée on principle, even if I disagree with her?

Prudence describes this as “one of those silly little fights every couple has” and suggests that the groom calmly discuss the issue with his future wife and help her to understand that this is but a single moment in the grand scheme of the wedding and important to his parents.

I hate this advice.

First off, he’s already done this. He’s said as much in his question. And “talk to her” is not exactly what I would call advice in almost any circumstance.  

More importantly, I don’t see this as “one of those silly little fights every couple has.”

No reasonable, unselfish, decent human being would ever be offended by the idea of this photograph taking place. As a wedding DJ for seventeen years, I can assure you that these kinds of photos happen all the time.

As unrealistic as this advice may seem, I would advise the man to strongly consider calling off the wedding altogether. If he were my friend, the last thing I would want to see is him marry a person as despicable as this, and as his friend, I would say as much.

I’ve said as much to friends in the past, and though these words are often received poorly, I am also often in the position to say “I told you so” later on (as was the case just recently).

I actually think that breaking off the engagement is the only choice here. Try to imagine the level of selfishness, self-centeredness and narcissism required to reject a request as simple and innocent as this from your future in-laws.

It’s astounding. Don’t you think?

Some might attribute the bride’s actions as the result of the stress involved with planning a wedding, but in my experience, if you act like a jerk during the planning and execution of your wedding, it’s likely that you will act a jerk in the future when life becomes complex, challenging and stressful.

Planning your wedding is not an excuse to act like an animal.

A bridezilla often becomes a wifezilla after the wedding.

If you’re critical of the National Football League, I understand completely. If you’re smug while doing so, you deserve to be kicked through a goal post.

Journalist Fuzz Hogan has decided to stop watching football this season. He cites head injuries, the the use of performance enhancing drugs and the way in which the NFL contributes to corruption in college football as his reasons for forgoing the game.

I have no problem with someone deciding that football is too violent to continue watching. The data on head injuries alone makes the danger clear, and if a football fan decides to stop supporting that violence, I understand completely.

I also have no problem with anyone who decides to stop watching football because of the use of performance enhancing drugs. When the integrity of the game is questioned, then its appeal is understandably diminished.

I’m not sure if the corruption in college football would end if the NFL did not exist as Hogan suggests, but I have no problem with this reason, either. If this is what Hogan believes, his decision to stop watching professional football is admirable.

While I don’t plan to stop watching the National Football League anytime soon, I am more than willing to acknowledge that my continued interest contributes to a variety of serious health problems for the players, and that a boycott of the game would be a noble thing to do.

I just love the game too much to stop.

My dispute with Hogan is based solely in the astounding level of smugness that he exhibits when describing his football free Sundays.

He writes:  

News flash: Watching football is a time-suck. Studies have shown there’s 11 minutes of action in a game that takes three hours. So even though I’ve tried to convince myself that I can be productive during the game—checking e-mails, folding laundry, even working out—that’s still a lot of wasted time trying to not waste time.

This is not a news flash. Football fans have known this forever. Many sports, including baseball and golf, are no different. But the game’s appeal does not lie in the eleven minutes of real time play alone. It’s the moments of critical decision making, the euphoric celebrations, the instant replay, the analysis of each play, the gamesmanship, the strategy and the conversation and camaraderie that fans enjoy between the plays. While Hogan is correct about the eleven minutes of play, his use of the phrase “New flash” and the underlying implication that he is dispensing new information on football fans make him sound like a smug jackass.  

Hogan then goes on to describe his football-free Sunday: 

So instead, on the NFL’s opening Sunday afternoon I cooked dinner—a real dinner, with different dishes and a complicated recipe. I helped the kids with homework, with the attention span to actually help. I found out how the other third lives … the third that doesn’t watch the NFL. It was enjoyable.

What a smug jackass. A real dinner? My wife made grilled cheese sandwiches with apples and bacon last night. We actually picked the apples last week just prior to the Patriots-Saints game. It is one of my favorite dinners, and the whole family loved it. It took her about 15 minutes to make.

Was this not a real enough dinner for you, Mr. Hogan?

Was the lack of complicated recipes disappointing to you?

And what if we decide to order pizza for dinner on Sunday while I watch the Patriots play the Jets? Should I feel like a bad parent or an ineffective human being? 

Is that how you will think of me?

Knowing that you are making a real dinner, from a complicated recipe, while we eat pizza from a box, should I assume that the way that you are spending your time is better than mine?

And what if I choose to help my children with homework after the game? Is this not also acceptable? Is there some premium placed on homework completion during an NFL game?

Hogan then says that his football-free Sundays have allowed him to discover how the people who don’t watch the NFL live.

Has he been watching the NFL while stuffed inside a cardboard box? Did he retire to the basement and lock the door in order to watch the game? Does some moratorium exist that prevented him from asking his friends and family what they were doing while he was watching the game?    

What a stupid, ridiculous, self-serving, smug thing to say. 

I have no problem with the criticism that the National Football League receives. I have no problem with the decision to boycott the game or stop watching forever. I even have no problem with criticism directed at me for supporting this violent game.

But smugness? That’s the worse.

Rules on how to be a man, which should not include anything related to physical appearance or handcrafted firearms.

A list of more than 75 ways to be a man in today’s world recently gained some traction on social media last week (as lists are wont to do), and I found it to be simultaneously excellent and exceptionally disappointing.

There are some real gems on the list that I adore, but unfortunately, the list is also populated by rules enforcing image conformity and complete nonsense like these:

• Buy expensive sunglasses. Superficial? Yes, but so are the women judging you. And it tells these women you appreciate nice things and are responsible enough not to lose them.
• Your clothes do not match. They go together.
• It’s better if old men cut your hair. Ask for Sammy at the Mandarin Oriental Barbershop in Hong Kong. He can share his experiences of the Japanese occupation, or just give you a copy of Playboy.
• Own a handcrafted shotgun. It’s a beautiful thing.

Still, there are some items of brilliance on this list. Here are the ones I like the best:

• You don’t have to like baseball, but you should understand the concept of what a pitcher’s ERA means. Approach life similarly.
• Stop talking about where you went to college.
• You will regret your tattoos.
• When in doubt, always kiss the girl.
• There’s always another level. Just be content knowing that you are still better off than most who have ever lived.
• You may only request one song from the DJ.
• Measure yourself only against your previous self.
• Place-dropping is worse than-name dropping.
• Revenge can be a good way of getting over anger.
• No-one cares if you are offended, so stop it.
• Read more. It allows you to borrow someone else’s brain, and will make you more interesting at a dinner party – provided that you don’t initiate conversation with, “So, who are you reading…”

The Today Show has cornered the market on young, white, blond, female kidnapping victims. You should stop watching.

The Today Show did a segment yesterday entitled Hannah’s Story.

As soon as I heard the promo for the segment at the opening of the show, I knew that the kidnapping victim would be young, white and probably blond.

Not surprising, I was right.

My wife heard me shout at the television in protest, and she argued that this was a national news story worthy of coverage. Even though I had yet to hear about Hannah and her presumably tragic kidnapping through my usual news sources, I believed her.

I’m sure that the mainstream media outlets covered this story closely, and perhaps justifiably so. I’m sure that The Today Show garnered millions of viewers for the segment.  

But I also don’t care. I refused to listen to a single word of Hannah’s Story.

This may come as a surprise to you, especially if you get your news primarily through sources like The Today Show and network news in general, but people are kidnapped in America every day, and some of them are not young.

Some of them are not female.

Some of them are not white.

Some of them are not blond.

Even though you can probably name half a dozen young, white, probably blond girls who have been kidnapped and murdered over the last decade,  there are African-American, Latino and Asian girls kidnapped and murdered all the time. Boys, too. And older people. Unattractive people, even. It happens every day. And in even greater numbers than young, white, blond girls.

But can you name even one?

Can you name a single African-American kidnapping victim from any point in American history?

For every Chandra Levy, Laci Peterson, Natalee Holloway, Taylor Behl, Elizabeth Smart or Jaycee Dugard (names that even I know despite my purposeful refusal to pay attention to these stories), can you name even one non-white kidnapping victim?

Or one male kidnapping victim?

Or a kidnapping victim over the age of 30?

I don’t know how other mainstream news sources cover kidnappings, but The Today Show has been specializing in young, white, oftentimes blond kidnapping victims for years, and they suck.

It’s a disgrace. I refuse to watch. You should, too.