Apologies Aren’t Always Appropriate

I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m sorry about, but there must be SOMETHING I owe you an apology for. Maybe I said something on the show you didn’t like. Maybe I am not as handsome as you always envisioned me to be. Or it could be that I cut you off in the supermarket last night and didn’t even know I was doing it. So…I AM sorry.

Apologies are hard when they are generic. Apologizing the way I did above is not as powerful or sincere as if I had apologized to the face of the individual that I actually offended.

But everybody does it. Family. Friends. Customer service reps. Politicians. If you listen carefully enough, all you hear all day long are apologies.

Now Alabama Governor Bob Riley has signed a resolution apologizing for slavery. It states among other things that the House and Senate “express our profound regret for the State of Alabama's role in slavery and that we apologize for the wrongs inflicted by slavery and its after effects in the United States of America”.

That sounds good on paper. But there is no one currently in the Alabama House or Senate who is guilty of slavery. And there is no one in Alabama who is currently enslaved. So how sincere and appropriate is this apology?

Don’t get me wrong. Slavery—wherever it is practiced—is an abomination. PERIOD. To enslave an innocent fellow human being for whatever reason is one of the greatest crimes we can commit. But perhaps some apologies come too late. What good is an apology when the people who are the ones who should be apologizing are long gone, as well as the people who should be receiving the apology?

I can apologize to you that I stole your wallet, but it would not be appropriate for me to apologize for a deceased relative who stole your deceased father’s wallet. I did not steal it. And no one living in Alabama is a slave or a slaveholder.

So Alabama has become the fourth state to issue such an apology. It will not be the last.

It is a shame that a formal apology was not made sooner, when it WOULD have been appropriate and desperately needed.

I’m sorry to have to break that to you.

Do We Need Warning Labels on Soda?

Chinese food is bad for you. So is Mexican. Ditto Italian. Fast food? Forget about it. Salt? Bad. I mean, bad for some more than others. Caffeine? Depends on what study you look at. The sun? Like alcohol, it’s good in moderation. I think. Wear sunscreen just in case. Even when you are indoors.

It’s hard to keep track of all the studies warning us that this, that, or the other thing will kill us if we aren’t careful. One thing is for sure; we aren’t getting out of this world alive.

So just accept it and go enjoy your favorite soda. Oh wait. Check that.

There is a new study showing that a common preservative in soda, sodium benzoate, can cause damage to our cells. Actually, it can allegedly shut off parts of our DNA. Excuse me?? SHUT OFF part of our DNA?? That sounds pretty hard-core. The illnesses linked to this kind of cell damage include Parkinson’s and other neuro-degenerative diseases.

Sodium Benzoate appears naturally in foods like berries, but the preservative is added in larger quantities to many sodas to prevent mold developing in the sealed cans.

Great. Just when I was about to pour myself another cola, I had to read a story like this.

Maybe Mom was right. Drink water. It’s good for you. Well, as long as it’s filtered. Wait. Studies have shown that even bottled water isn’t all that great for you.

Maybe I will just let the saliva slowly trickle down my throat and drink that. It’s natural, right? That will be the next thing they find bad for you.

If You Can’t Deport All of Them, You Can Deport Some of Them

I can’t keep it inside anymore. Although I have talked about it on the air before from time to time, I have felt a burning need to write it down on paper. An answer to the mantra of the day: “We can’t deport 12 million illegal aliens!”

Ok. Let’s look at this closely and with a little common sense. No one has ever seriously suggested deporting 12 million people in one shot. It IS a virtual impossibility. But does that mean you don’t deport SOME of the 12 million? Does it mean you don’t deport ANY?

Would we use this argument for any other group or entity in our society?

Do we argue that since we can’t catch every child molester in America, that we shouldn’t catch SOME? As many as we can?

We can’t catch everyone who runs a red light. But we certainly can have the police pull over every driver they catch doing it. It will certainly be a number eclipsed by the TOTAL number of culprits, but it is better than NOTHING.

We can’t help EVERY poor person in America, so let’s not help ANY?

We can’t bring EVERY troop home from Iraq, so why bring back ANY?

You could substitute just about anything for ILLEGAL ALIEN and see my point made clearly. From tax evaders to drunk drivers, from spousal abusers to murderers, no one EVER makes the argument that since you can’t catch all of them, you shouldn’t TRY to catch any at all.

So why do we do this with illegal aliens? Because we have all been hoodwinked. We have been made to believe that if we actually enforce our current border laws that we are committing unspeakable acts against humanity. We must be a compassionate people! Is it not compassionate to take care of our OWN people before criminal aliens who broke into our country? It is compassionate to ask the American taxpayer to carry the weight of millions of foreign dependents who leach off our system?

This week Federal authorities arrested 100 suspected illegal aliens at a poultry plant in Missouri. Yes, that is a very tiny number compared to the 12 million still running around free. But is it not better to catch 100 than NONE? And maybe if the 100 were made an example of, the countless millions may reevaluate their situation. If we don’t make them feel protected by the fact that they can hide behind our unenforced laws and we make them feel vulnerable, as they SHOULD, then maybe we stand a chance of reclaiming our very Nation.

While we are at it, we should stop trying to catch corporate swindlers and polluters. Sure they are fleecing the American people and ruining the environment. But hey! We can’t catch them all! It’s UNREALISTIC and UNFAIR! So let’s save some money and quit looking for them. Do you like that reasoning?

I didn’t think so.

Maybe the I.C.E. should take a lesson from the I.R.S.—they KNOW they won’t catch every scofflaw in America. But it sure doesn’t stop them from trying. Why is it ok to go after Americans for suspicion that they haven’t paid their taxes but it’s not ok to go after NON-Americans for suspicion they aren’t here LEGALLY?

The System makes no sense. Or maybe I make too much sense. It’s hard to say which is which sometimes.

Latinos Like Me

Yesterday’s news of an immigration reform “compromise” rang out to me as more of a sell out than anything else. And I have to admit, anything that Senator Ted Kennedy is so jazzed up about gets me nervous by definition.

So, 12 million illegal aliens will soon be taking a step up the ladder of respect and recognition and ultimate citizenship. As Kennedy stated, it’s time for them to step out of the shadows and into the sunlight.

As I routinely remind listeners to my show when this issue comes up, I am the product of LEGAL immigration from Latin America. My father came to America with his family from Mexico. My mother came with hers from Nicaragua. I spoke Spanish AND English at home growing up. If America were being flooded with immigrants such as my family members, I would not be as concerned.

They came here legally and by the book from DAY ONE. They didn’t first break the law and then whine for forgiveness. They got here and received zero benefits. They asked for NOTHING but the opportunity to follow their hearts and their dreams and their passions for success.

I am sick to death, frankly, of all of these illegal alien parades, rallies, and protests. What is the common denominator at all of these events? Well, aside from law enforcement and border agents doing absolutely NOTHING, the central commonality is that these immigrants are always ASKING for something. Actually, they don’t ask, they DEMAND! We want this, and that, and some of this, too! And we want it NOW!

My ancestors would have been EMBARASSED to stand in the middle of their city and whine about how poorly they were being treated. They didn’t ask for a darned thing. They certainly would have felt SHAME if they were asking these things had they been ILLEGAL ALIENS! My grandfathers would have locked themselves in freezers before stepping onto the sidewalk and demanding things from the country they CHOSE to come to in order to better their lives. The only thing my family needed was the OPPORTUNITY to succeed. They never demanded success ITSELF. They felt they deserved only what they had earned and were willing to work for.

The most maddening part is that America is not filling up with enough immigrants like my ancestors. Or even Latinos like me. My father’s family didn’t bring Mexican flags when they came to America. Neither did my mother’s family bring flags from Nicaragua. My father was a 4^th generation Mexican by birth, but a red blooded American by choice. My mother never looks back at the homeland. THIS is her home.

The saddest part is that people always like to question my ethnicity. I don’t LOOK Mexican, after all. And people never believe my father is of Mexican ancestry because he doesn’t look, sound, or act Latino enough for most people’s tastes. My mother still has a Central American accent, but she legally votes in elections and ticks off San Francisco liberals by voting for Republicans and conservatives (whenever they can be found in the left leaning Bay Area).

You don’t listen to me as a Latino. You listen to me as an American. An American who is as concerned as you are about the future of OUR country. I wish the immigrants who are applauding the Bush-Capitol Hill immigration SHAM would take notice of families like mine and learn that there are right ways and wrong ways to approach anything.

Gilberto Escalante is a fisherman in the state of Sinaloa in Mexico. He admits what I have been saying for YEARS about many Latin American immigrants coming into our country today—they often don’t WANT to be a part of the American fabric. "We don't want the house or the latest car in the U.S. We want to go and work so that our families can have a good life in Mexico,” Escalante explains. A good life in MEXICO.

Where are all the immigrants that want us ALL to have a good life here…RIGHT HERE…in the greatest country on earth?

Maybe Latinos like me are the minority. Maybe all I can do is contact my elected officials (most of which were NOT elected by me or anyone I know) and tell them that it’s not too late to have a change of heart on this issue.

Gun Toting Tots? They Start Them Younger All The Time!

My parents never had a problem with me playing with toy guns as a child. This was back in the Dark Ages before toy guns were loud hues of pink and yellow and green. Toy guns didn’t have orange tips back then and someone kids knew better than to point them at the police or at each other on the streets.

From a detective’s pistol to Han Solo’s laser blaster from STAR WARS, I had a toy gun arsenal in my room. The only ammo I was ever allowed to pack was of the cap gun variety. I don’t even know if kids still play with those today. When was the last time you walked into a toy store and saw cap guns? Or saw kids playing cops and robbers with them?

Even though I started young with toy guns, I didn’t own a real gun until I was in my 20s. I still own it and keep it responsibly away from my children.

My 10-year-old has fired a pellet gun and owns one as well. But would you give a gun…any gun… to a 10-MONTH-old?? How about a REAL gun??

A columnist for a local paper in Illinois registered his son for a Firearm Owner’s Identification Card. He HAD to, it’s the law. He HAD to because the 10-month-old (nicknamed “Bubba”) was given a gun by his grandfather shortly after he was born.

Can you imagine this? I am a gun owner, believer in the 2^nd Amendment, and the whole nine yards…but isn’t this…um…RIDICULOUS?? How about giving it to dad and letting him dive it to Junior when he is old enough? Why would you give a firearm to a child that young?

The ID has a picture of Bubba and is complete with a scribble for a signature. The card allows the baby to own the gun and ammunition. It also allows him to transport the gun, unloaded.

But just think of the benefits to this insanity! No other baby would dare take his bottle or make smelly diaper jokes! “Shhhhhh! Make way, everyone! It’s Billy The Kiddo!”

Maybe for his 1^st birthday, grandpa could try buying him a truly age appropriate toy. Like maybe a machine gun? A tank? Or even his own missile launch pad. Now that’s something no toddler should be without.

May I Interest You In Something? Anything?!?

I’m at the drive thru at Taco Bell and I get dismayed and angry at the voice on the other end of the terminal. No life in the voice. Not the least bit of enthusiasm. I have heard robots speak with more emotion.

It doesn’t get any better when I am handed my food. An outstretched arm. No smile. No thank you. No have a great day. NOTHING. Just a kid whose picture would be found next to the word “indifferent” in the dictionary.

One could easily blame the job. How many times can you hand someone a taco combo meal without losing your mind with boredom, right?

WRONG.

How would you then explain how countless other cashiers have been peppy and friendly and ALIVE?

Easily. It’s attitude. ATTITUDE is EVERYTHING. Remember that!

Even if that cashier was having the LOUSIEST of days, he has to learn to leave that in his car with his CD collection. There are times when I am having a bad day, and guess what? The show must go on. How fair would it be to YOU the listeners of my show if I let a bad day ruin YOUR experience?

I worked at a movie theater in high school and I was the only employee the managers could recall who would be offered TIPS by customers. Why? Because I offered them fast, friendly, and courteous service. I remember a guy used to come in only for the frozen yogurts I would make. Why? Because I actually took a few moments to make the swirls look nice and professional, unlike my impatient and unhappy co-workers who would stuff the yogurt into the cup so that it looked like it had fallen from an airplane.

I have had other jobs that weren’t exactly what I wanted to do for a living. But you know what? My days never dragged because I put EVERYTHING into them. If I was selling someone a Playstation 2, I acted as if that was the most important thing I could ever do. And for a few moments, it WAS the most important thing I could ever do. And the customers could feel it. And again, I had return customers who Christmas after Christmas, came to ME for service instead of the dozen other people who could have helped them.

There is no excuse. Whatever you do in life…whatever you are about to do after you finish the last few sentences of this blog…do it with EVERYTHING IN YOU. If you are only going to put 50% or 80% into it, don’t bother. Step aside and let someone else do it. You wouldn’t swing at a baseball with only half a bat, right? Well, why would you approach LIFE that way?

Attitude…is…everything. Who knows? With practice, maybe you can make a killer frozen yogurt too!

How ImPOTENT Is Your Sex Drive Anyway?

Ok, enough is enough. Your sex drive is WAY overrated. Or at least the importance placed on it is. Sure, sexual intercourse is nice. I won't lie to you. I certainly put it up there as one of the top 10 things you should do before you die. But, come on now! Look at the billions of dollars the pharmaceutical companies make convincing you that without a pornographic sex life you are less than a man. Even women are being targeted with such ad campaigns and products.

Now we read about the Peruvian Viagra--frog juice. Yes, some Andean cultures believe that frog juice can alleviate ailments such as asthma, sluggishness, and even low sex drive.

FROG JUICE?? You mean...you have to literally kill a frog, skin it, and throw it in a blender to increase your sex drive?? FROG JUICE?!?! I think I would prefer complete celibacy.

I questioned my own virility several years ago and much later realized the problem wasn't with the pilot, but with the plane. I now fly craft that eclipses the Stealth bomber, thank you very much, and am the happiest man on earth.

So...maybe part of the problem that no one ever wants to dare address is your sex drive may be affected by the partner you choose. I was never the kind of guy that could just get turned on by anyone remotely resembling a female. It took more than that for me. I never understood people who could just "do it" with anyone they met at a bar or other social gathering--complete strangers!!

Maybe our sex drives have higher standards than we do! Maybe our bodies are wired with higher expectations than we give ourselves credit for! Maybe we...gasp...have to connect with someone on more than just a physical level in order to have a fulfilling sex life! Your sex drive doesn't HAVE to be just carnal in origin. It can be--and don't laugh--a metaphysical experience! A good, healthy sex life transcends just the physical "going-through-the-motions" routine.

Think about all the men who have to use pornography before they suggest any sexual overture towards their wives or partners. WHY?? Why don't they find this excitement from the LADY IN THEIR LIFE?? If you have to look at a magazine or watch a movie in order to want to have intercourse with your partner...um...something is WRONG. This is one of the millions of warning signs that life gives us to advise us that something is HAS TO CHANGE.

So before you kill a frog or spend thousands of dollars on pills, take a look at the bigger picture. Maybe you need to reevaluate your situation and see what other factors need to be considered.

And remember the most important thing of all--your sex drive shouldn't be the dominating force in your relationship. If anything, your sex drive can be elevated and enhanced by all of the other circumstances of your relationship.

What would Kermit the Frog say?

Honey? Where Are My Keys?

Honey, where are my car keys? My socks? Have you seen my fountain pen? No, the one with the BLUE ink?

Why do guys always think it's someone else's responsibility to keep track of and track down their personal belongings? We start when we are very young, don't we ladies? HEY MOM?!?! Where are my sneakers?? My kids always ask us the whereabouts of their underwear, Nintendo handhelds, homework, etc. Our response is usually that they have to keep track of these things themselves. Individual responsibility.

So, that brings us to the present. I have just found a key chain that I have been looking for almost a week. Important keys. Keys to my car. My home. My garage. EVERYTHING. For almost a week, my car has been sitting idle in front of the house, looking almost sad that I could be so careless. Maybe the car remembered the days when its keys to the fast lane were always in the tray by the front door. ALWAYS.

Except for the times when they are not. When I leave them in my pants and they end up in the hamper. Or when they fall into the sofa, to be found at a later hour, cold and scared in a dark cave of lost M & M's, hot wheels, and dust bunnies. Or when I set them down in the bathroom, family room, stove, or anywhere else they are NOTsupposed to be.

The tray at the front door calls out to me...whispering..."You would save hours every month looking for those keys if you just remembered to put them...in the TRAAAAAAAAY."

This time I had to REALLY look for these keys. I did everything but tear up the floorboards and look in the walls. I looked in our cars (the Buick keys were missing, but the doors were unlocked for some reason). If the Buick was unlocked, maybe it would make sense that the keys fell under the seats or underneath some old fast food wrappers. Nope. The cupboard or the fridge? Nope. Under all the beds? Even the dog's? Nope.

I had exhausted every possibility. I was resigned that I had lost the keys somewhere else. The Post Office? The mall? A restaurant? Maybe they WERE gone forever. Not as bad as losing your credit cards, but still frustrating nonetheless.

Just when I was ready to give up, I made one more search of one of the cars and there they were...the most beautifil sight all morning next to my Beauty's lovely face--THE KEYS!! They were under a sweatshirt I SWORE I had already looked under.

So what is the moral of this story?

Always put your keys in the SAME SPOT. And just when you think you have looked under every rock...look again or under new rocks. Another common mistake that books could be written about is the color or shape phenomenon. Ever convince yourself that the wallet you are looking for HAS to be in the blue jacket? You convince yourself to the point that you don't even entertain the idea that you could be wrong and that the RED jacket is the correct choice. Or ever find yourself SO sure that you dropped your wallet at the restaurant that you forget you stopped at 3 other places on your way home? Or the checkbook you KNOW is in the kitchen so you don't bother looking anywhere else? We all do this, right?

We get stubborn. We huff and we puff and we expect EVERYONE around us to know where the keys or the socks or the Nintendos are. Look under that sweatshirt. Yes, the one you SWEAR you already checked 5 times. I bet it's there.

Your keys are out there. Somewhere. And what a sweet reunion it will be when you find them. It always feels so good, doesn't it?

No Bones About It

haven't really been hooked on a television series--I mean REALLY HOOKED--since the X-Files. I just don't have a lot of time to watch prime time television, so I miss out on a lot of the shows people are always talking about around the water cooler.

I got my Sweetie hooked on SMALLVILLE and now she is paying me the favor by getting me hooked on a relatively new crime-drama-mystery show. It's called BONES and it airs on FOX on Wednesday nights. But I am catching up on the show after buying Season One on DVD from $20 at Target.

It's a GREAT show! And I find myself unable to press stop on the DVD! Just ONE more episode and THEN I'll clean the bathroom, I SWEAR I will!!

BONES follows the adventures and detective work of an FBI agent who teams up with a forensic anthropologist to solve crimes involving the bare bones, literally, of crime victims. Together they can take a skull found in a ditch or a hand found in the body of a bear and by the end of the hour, they have solved an otherwise unsolved mystery. They often not only know the identity of the victim, but of their killer as well. The show is based on the real life career of a forensic anthropologist and is absolutely fascinating. It touches on things you NEVER think about when it comes to crime fighting...like analzying the larvae and bugs found on a corpse or in the area in which it was found...analyzing bone structure and DNA...the magical science that happens behind closed doors everyday.

BONES is a darned good show and you should treat yourself and check it out. The chemistry between the wannabe macho, yet highly insecure, FBI agent and his intellectually superior female counterpart is believable and always the source of both humor and tension. It reminds one of the relatioship Mulder & Scully had on Fox's THE X-FILES. The supporting characters are wonderful as well as perfectly cast. The stories trick you by always being SEEMINGLY predictable, but they always throw you for a loop by the story's end. Cool stuff.

Speaking of television shows on DVD...more of the great oldies are making it on DVD these days.

How about one of the staples of my adolescence like THE STREETS OF SAN FRANCISCO or WKRP IN CINCINNATI? Or HAPPY DAYS, LAVERNE & SHIRLEY, DIFFERENT STROKES, THE ROCKFORD FILES or LEAVE IT TO BEAVER? Thanks to the magic of DVDS, our children can grow up with SPEED RACER and THE BRADY BUNCH just like we did! And all commercial free. Not bad, huh?

Collecting your favorite shows has never been easier. Get to it and have fun reliving old memories and making new ones. And you can do it on your own time, at your own pace. It doesn't get any sweeter than that.