I must hate America.

Remember when President Bush told everyone to go shopping after 9/11 to help the economy? Good times. He did the same thing in 2007, when the current recession loomed:

As we work with Congress in the coming year to chart a new course in Iraq and strengthen our military to meet the challenges of the 21st century, we must also work together to achieve important goals for the American people here at home. This work begins with keeping our economy growing. … And I encourage you all to go shopping more.

It sounded really stupid coming out of his mouth (natch). But I am hearing the same message in more subtle ways from less retarded-sounding sources.

According to this AP article, for example, saving is bad for the economy. "For years, stores enjoyed boom times as shoppers splurged on TVs, fancy kitchen decor and clothes. Suddenly, frugality is in style."

For the first time ever, I have a savings account. With actual money in it. If that makes me "stylish," even better. I reached this point after paying down $10,000 in credit card debt. I hope never to go that far into a hole again.

The AP article laments, however, that "hard times will persist in 2009 as consumers, squeezed by layoffs and tighter credit, delay purchases of cars and other big-ticket items. Some experts say consumers have been so shaken by how fast their wealth has shrunk, so burned by credit card debt, that they might not resume their robust spending for years, if ever."

Thanks for the guilt trip, AP. But Americans' "robust spending" got us--including me--into lots and lots of trouble. Shouldn't we learn from our mistakes? Isn't it a good thing that more of us are saving?

This article doesn't try very hard to challenge what I would argue is a flawed philosophy: that the strength of America's economy is measured by the number of plasma TVs, McMansions, granite countertops, and iPhones purchased on credit.

I'm no economist, but there has to be a better measure of how well we are doing as a society. Urging me to go out and buy stuff, either subtly or in so many words, doesn't seem like a prudent way to make our economy sustainable over the long term.

I did, however, buy new shoes this weekend. Does that make me a patriot?

The Purple People Eater

Good thing I am unlikely to have grandchildren, so I don't have to tell them about the time I almost made it to the inauguration of the the first black president of the United States.

I live four blocks from the U.S. Capitol. I was lucky enough (or so I thought) to score a ticket to one of the standing sections between the reflecting pool and the Capitol. I left my apartment before the sun came up to arrive more than an hour before the gates opened. I actually brought a book because I was worried I would be bored standing around waiting for the ceremony to start.

Ha. I forgot that the D.C. Police and U.S. Capitol Police were in charge. I have never experienced such an epic clusterfuck in my whole life.

The photo above shows the "line" I stood in to get into the Purple Gate, designated for purple ticket holders like me. For security reasons, they were funneling all ticket holders for the section through a single security checkpoint, which was not clearly marked. When I arrived at 7 a.m., any semblance of a line leading to that illusive checkpoint had started to deteriorate into a blob. But everyone was in good spirits and hopeful, even as the blob turned into more of a mob. People chanted "Obama!" and sang songs. My little part of the mob even tried (in vain) to start the wave.

While standing in this mob, I noted happily that this is the most integrated I have ever seen DC. Black people and white people hanging out (if involuntarily), joking around, making conversation.

While freezing cold and uncomfortable, we had no reason to believe that we wouldn't get in. After all, we had heard about the precision inaugural preparations non-stop on the news, and we had arrived early, as suggested by event organizers. Three hours in, however, we hadn't moved more than 50 feet. And we weren't really going anywhere in that 50 feet; rather, the mob was just getting denser. By 10 a.m., I couldn't move my arms because I was so packed in.

Not once--NOT ONCE--during this three hours did I see a single police officer, National Guardsman, or event volunteer.

By 11 a.m., one hour before Obama was to take the oath, people started to get desperate. The mob descended on the security checkpoint and started chanting "Let us in!" and "Purple! Purple!" As the mob grew more restless, I still didn't see a single cop. The only uniforms I saw were those of the medical personnel who twice had to fight their way through the mob to help two elderly people who had collapsed from standing in line for hours in the cold without access to water or restrooms.

By 11:32 a.m., I realized I was never going to make it in. With tears in my eyes, I fought my way out of the crowd and sprinted home. I made it home 10 minutes before the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court flubbed the presidential oath.

The Washington Post reported that "at least 4,000 people with coveted blue or purple tickets to the presidential inauguration were blocked from entering the U.S. Capitol grounds because too many tickets were distributed, entry procedures bogged down and security officials were overwhelmed by surging crowds at several gates." This is a GROSS under-estimation of the number of purple people denied, let alone the other sections. I was surrounded by thousands of people. And that doesn't even take into account the thousands of purple ticket holders trapped for hours in what became known as the Purple Tunnel of Doom, the I-395 tunnel that runs under the Mall.

Check out this photo of the Purple Tunnel of Doom (the survivors of which have already started a Facebook page). Event organizers directed thousands of people to stand in line underground in a cold tunnel for hours with no restrooms, no water, and no police presence. This is ineptitude on an epic scale. It is a testament to the patience and good will of the people trapped in that tunnel that no one was hurt, even after most of them emerged from the tunnel to learn that the gates were closed.

My favorite excuse for this disaster: the Sergeant at Arms said people wearing bulky winter clothing took up more space on the Mall than expected. Are you fucking serious? This is your excuse? It is January 20th, moron. While this ain't northern Minnesota, it also ain't Miami. It's winter, dumb ass. Moreover, satellite images taken of the Mall at 11:19 a.m. show open space in the purple and blue ticketed sections and a mob of people at the gates. Don't blame the weatherman, Sergeant, for your incompetence.

I was so disappointed. If I had known that having a ticket meant nothing, I would have gladly gone and stood miles away at the Washington Monument with my friends and witnessed the event on a Jumbotron. After all, I didn't expect to see much even from my ticketed seat; I wanted to experience the jubilation of the crowd, which you can't get from watching it at home on TV.

Instead, I spent the majority of this historic event either staring at the back of frustrated strangers or sprinting home through blocked off streets with police yelling at me to stay on the sidewalk. Why the police felt it more important to patrol blocked off streets rather than ensure the safety of tens of thousands of people trapped in the Purple Tunnel of Doom is beyond me.

As disappointed as I was, I felt terribly for the people who spent thousands of dollars on plane tickets and hotel rooms in order to be a part of history. Many of them had stood in line for hours at the House and Senate office buildings just the day before to pick up their tickets, which turned out to be useless.

I felt even worse for the numerous elderly African-American men and women, most dressed to the nines, to whom this event likely meant more than most. As it became more obvious that the Great Purple Gate Disaster of 2009 had reached Code Red Clusterfuck, many of them started to tear up or even quietly cry.

Fuck you, U.S. Capitol Police Chief Morse, for making little old black ladies cry.

OMG, I'm so mortified, the police saw the super-absorbent tampons in my purse.

In college, a woman known campus-wide as "Crazy Jenny" sat at the exit of the library and half-heartedly peered into students' bags to make sure they weren't stealing anything with a Dewey Decimal Number on it. Every time I had to open my bag for her, I resented it. Not because it was a huge burden to open my bag, but because it was such obvious bullshit. If I wanted to smuggle out a book, all I had to do was bury it at the bottom of my bag, since she clearly wasn't going to do more than peek into it with one of her crossed eyes.

And now, the DC Metro system is going to deploy a legion of Crazy Jennys to conduct random searches of Metro riders' bags to "to deter terrorist attacks and increase the overall safety of the Metro system."

You can probably HEAR my eyes rolling. I mean, just five months ago the police busted a Metro station manager after she told an undercover police officer that she could hook him up with prostitutes and a sex party for $100. She even used the Metro loudspeaker to pimp. This is the frontline against terrorism?

Metro officials said the new plan to randomly search riders' bags was not in response to a specific threat "but prompted by increased security concerns before next week's election and the inauguration as well as by the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks and later bombings of commuter trains in Madrid, London and elsewhere." Helllllllooo, a fucking MONKEY could have figured out that the Metro system is vulnerable to terrorist attacks. And, by the way, it is 2008. If the Metro system is so vulnerable, what the hell have the Metro Powers That Be been doing for the last seven years?

Moreover, the actual program is total B.S. and will do absolutely nothing to make people safer, just more annoyed to be commuting another day to a soul-sucking job in a nascent police state. According to Metro, inspections could take place at any Metro facility at any time. But, just before a random inspection at a specific station, Metro Transit Police will post signs alerting riders to the inspections. Surprise! Not. Individuals who refuse to have their bag or bags inspected will not be allowed to enter the Metro system with those carry-on items, but they will be free to leave the system with their items.

So, a bad guy (or his scouters) notices that Metro is checking every 12th bag or something at Capitol South Metro Station. Instead of taking his statistical chances, he decides to walk 4 blocks to the Federal Center SW Station instead. Duh.

Of course, Metro threw a thinly veiled disclaimer into its press release, just in case people think the program is lame. "If the initiative we are announcing today does nothing more than remind us all that there are people in the world who have vowed to do us harm, and that vigilance is the key to defeating them, then this program will have succeeded."

So, if the program helps instill fear in people, it is a success. Is that what we have come to as a society? As long as people are looking over their shoulders, giving the stink eye to people who look Arab, and assuming that the white powder on the Metro platform is anthrax, then we are all better off?

Right.

Random searches are not going to deter anyone or keep would-be terrorists "off balance." Short of strip-searching everyone on their morning commute, what can we do? Nothing, probably, except cross our fingers and push for foreign policy that doesn't piss people off. That may sound flippant, but I honestly would rather live in a society with risks than in a city dominated by searches, uzis, police tape, roadblocks, and Crazy Jenny.

ADDENDUM: My friend "Sarah Jane" suggested that I carry around a bag with weird stuff in it in case I get searched. Like a bunch of sex toys. Or clumps of hair. Or headless Barbies.

The good news is, there is a God. The bad news is...

Havens Corners Church in Blacklick, Ohio generated some news coverage with its pop-culturally relevant church sign, of course referencing Katy Perry's omnipresent song.

Did anyone else giggle at the town name? Blacklick? I guess it would have been funnier if it had been [insert euphemism for vagina]lick.

The church has since removed the sign, but not because people were outraged by the bigotry. Instead, the pastor said many residents of Blacklick had never heard the song before (where the hell have they been?) and were confused. For a brief moment, hetero men in Blacklick were freaking out about the fate of their eternal souls.

I can't wait to see what people have to say about THIS sign from Sarah Palin's former church.

OK, OK, I created that sign on the Internets, but it's scary because it comes close to the truth. In a speech before the Wasilla Assembly of God a few months ago, Gov. Palin asked the audience to pray for the successful construction of a $30 billion national gas pipeline project: "I think God's will has to be done in unifying people and companies to get that gas line built, so pray for that."

Gulp.

God forbid average people actually empower themselves

After I heard Rudy Giuliani introduce Sarah Palin last night and listened to her acceptance speech, I literally felt sick to my stomach and so agitated that I couldn't sleep.

I am not going to write about Gov. Palin's experience relative to Senator Obama's, her daughter's pregnancy, her ability to shoot a moose or the many half-truths and straight-up lies in her speech. (I encourage everyone to read this AP article about the latter). Instead, I want to express my utter disgust with how Giuliani and Palin mocked community organizers and how the buffoons in the audience lapped it up.

Community organizers, who can be paid professionals or volunteer citizens, work to empower communities to solve a local problem by building a base of concerned people, mobilizing these community members to act, and developing leadership from and relationships among the people involved.

Rudy Giuliani's schtick in his speech was to compare McCain and Obama as if we were just potential employers looking at their resumes "objectively." After going through McCain's qualifications, Giuliani started in on Obama's experience as a community organizer, with a note of derision in his voice. He then stopped to giggle, and said "maybe this is the first problem on the resume," while the crowd started laughing and chanting "Zero! Zero!"

So, let me get this straight. The day after the Republican National Convention focused on the theme of "service," Giuliani mocks people who have opted to devote their time and even their careers to helping other people improve their communities. Nice. And Barack Obama is the elitist?

This set the tone for Sarah Palin's later reference to Obama's experience as a community organizer. She said, with notable sarcasm, "I guess a small town mayor is sort of like a 'community organizer,' except that you have actual responsibilities." (Yeah, like trying to decide which books to ban from the local public library).

This is where Sarah Palin lost every ounce of my respect. Truth be told, I think she is a right-wing nutball, but I can respect her right to have a different opinion than mine, even though I think it is wrong. I can respect that she is a successful, articulate woman who made a career by engaging and listening to her community at PTA and city council meetings. But last night, she (articulately) regurgitated a speech, written by a former Bush speechwriter, that summarily dismissed the value of this community-level engagement and shat upon the very people she once represented in her small town, people who may not have the responsibilities of a mayor or governor but who feel every bit responsible for the health and quality of life of their families and neighbors.

The fat cats in the audience hooted and hollered at the idea of a "community organizer" because they know, they KNOW, that community organizers in the spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr. and the late Senator Paul Wellstone challenge the status quo. Judged by their belly laughs, those guys in the big cowboy hats like the status quo. A lot. Jon Stewart summarized the collective sentiment best: "To everyone out there trying to make a difference in their communities, FUCK YOU. You are bunch of asses!"

Flashback of Irony: In his 1989 inaugural address, President George H.W. Bush reminded Americans of his call for "a thousand points of light," community organizations that "spread like stars throughout the Nation, doing good."

Sigh.

Nothing communicates prosperity like fresh asphalt

The Washington Post reported today that the District Department of Transportation (DDOT) has started a $2 million project to re-pave and "spruce up" a large stretch of Pennsylvania Avenue in time for the January inauguration of Jobama or Pain, as I've taken to calling the two presidential tickets (trademark pending).

The kicker: the road doesn't need re-paving. Not a pothole in sight. But DDOT says Pennsylvania Avenue is a "showcase for DDOT" and wants it to "look perfect for Inauguration Day." This makes Pennsylvania Avenue sound like a bride visiting the TriBeCa MedSpa before her wedding day. "This is your special day, and you need to look like a princess. How about a little Botox, some wrinkle-filler and some airbrush tanning to freshen you up for your wedding photos, you old hag?" Don't forget the bridesmaids.

All the cosmetic surgery in the world won't make you a princess, just deluded and a little fucked up, like the DC government.

Seriously? $2 million to pave a road that doesn't need paving? At a time when gasoline prices are on the rise and global warming is drowning polar bears, our scarce transportation dollars should go toward making it easier for people to take public transit. Instead, the DC government spends $2 million to Botox a road.

In the meantime, the DC Metro system, alone among major U.S. transit systems, does not have a dedicated source of revenue for capital improvements. As a result, the Metro continues to experience breakdowns, delays and disruptions due to deteriorating infrastructure and equipment problems, making the daily commute even more soul-sucking than it already is.

I guess the DC government is guessing (correctly) that the pomp of the Inauguration will serve as a bright, shiny object to distract people attending the festivities or watching them on the TV from DC's reality: under-performing public schools, rampant child poverty, violent crime, and glut of political hack douchebags. Oh, and that taxation without representation thing.

But the pavement is so beautiful!

My lapel pin can see the emptiness of your soul

I vowed to stay away from politics in this blog, as to not get into trouble at work. So, please consider this a post about jewelry, accessorizing, and all things sparkly.

Last fall, the media had a field day when Senator Obama stopped wearing a flag pin on his lapel. (He's wearing it again, of course).

Given the Great Flag Pin Controversy of 2007, I took note of two things when Senator McCain announced today that he had chosen Alaska Governor Sarah Palin as his running mate.

(1) Senator McCain was not wearing a flag pin. Doh! Where's Tim Gunn when you need him?

(2) Gov. Palin's flag pin, on the other hand, was patriotically-enhanced and blinged out. Her flag pin said, at least to me, "I am a patriot. Maybe you didn't hear me. I AM A PATRIOT. I am a woman who does not hesitate to boldly accessorize, who is not afraid to use red, white, and blue rhinestones to shine the sparkly light of truth on anti-American values. Why is your flag pin so puny? Size matters. Holla!"

What, inanimate objects don't talk to you?

And to think I was worried about the global shortage of food and potable water.

The Washington Post revealed last week that U.S. sperm banks are running out of frozen Nordic sperm. Det er noget skidt!

Since May 2005, the United States has banned sperm banks from importing the little swimmers from Europe for fear it might spread mad cow disease. As you may know, people who eat meat from animals infected with mad cow develop Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease in rare cases. So, yes, the FDA has made sperm a food safety issue, adding yet another dimension to the age-old "spit or swallow" debate.

Continuing on the food theme, Claus Rodgaard, who runs the Cryos International sperm bank in New York City, says the demand for Nordic sperm remains high, but Cryos has "just a few crumbs left." Apparently, American sperm connoisseurs are particularly fond of Nordic sperm crumbs, because the of the donors' blue eyes, blond hair and "tendency to be tall and have advanced degrees." Also appealing, according to the Nordic Cryobank of Copenhagen, is the Nordic donors' sincere, rather than monetary, motivations for donation. (So this makes the sperm more ... philanthropic?)

Who are the faceless, tragic victims in the Great Frozen Nordic Sperm Shortage (GFNSS) of 2008? The Post article talked about the desire of one woman to give her "beautiful Viking baby" a full sibling by using the same donor (nicknamed Sven) she used for her first pregnancy. Thwarted by the GFNSS at U.S. sperm banks, this woman has flown to Copenhagen three times to be inseminated with sperm from the donor. Inquiring minds want to know ... did she call around to find a sperm bank with Sven in stock, like you would a pair of pants at the Gap, or did she track down the real Sven and ask for a charitable donation?

With the shortage of Viking sperm, it's a good thing we have Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie committed to providing the world with genetically superior babies.