Say it ain't so

Despite the news, I guess I've been in denial. On one hand, I couldn't dispute the recent headlines, but on the other hand, I was hoping against hope that something would happen to save Borders from closure. That is, until last night when I drove past a big "going out of business" banner spanning the front of a Borders store in Southfield.

My Borders experience goes back years, and in a different state. When I moved to Bangor, Maine, years ago, there were so many outdoorsy things to do that more than made up for the apparent lack of stores, restaurants or night spots.

One of the mainstays at the relatively small Bangor Mall complex even then was Borders. I'd never been in one before moving there and I loved it immediately. I found little known titles, helpful clerks and an overall welcoming atmosphere. Yes, I'm not a big fan of the big box stores, but with Borders, at least in Bangor, you had a store that really tried to fit in with its community.

Borders was also just one of two bookstores in the area. And, given Bangor's then-lacking social scene, Borders was a cool place to meet for coffee, chat awhile and pick up a good book or CD. I think it even had performers in the cafe area during weekend evenings. You always bumped into people you knew.

Over the years, Bangor grew into a city I probably would be hard pressed to recognize in some neighborhoods now. Even while I still lived there, a lot of cool stuff started taking off. Not only has the mall district swelled to capacity, but the once lackluster downtown is a thriving, diverse area offering antiques, great restaurants, boutiques, watering holes, you name it.

I hear part of this is a result of a post-Sept. 11 rural migration. People fled cities for safer, more remote areas. Always ranking pretty highly in those "great place to raise your family" lists, Bangor welcomed these folks and their business.

I also credit stores like Borders as adding to Bangor's attraction. I'd been told that the Bangor store was the leading outlet east of the Mississippi for the Ann-Arbor based business. The Bangor Daily News reported that it consistently ranked in the top 50 stores nationally.

So it seems a shame to close down such a top performing store that has been such a vital part of a community. And such a sign of the times. But I probably won't be able to resist the liquidation sales.

Public Spectacle

Why is it that we feed on tragedies like Amy Winehouse, and only after her death do we seriously look at the disease rather than the spectacle? We watch like vultures. And while we all probably said to ourselves, after looking at her stumbling across the stage or slurring her words, "Wow. That poor girl is going to kill herself unless she gets help," Winehouse continued to provide the scandal fodder that we have such an appetite for.

We view these people - Lindsay Lohan, Charlie Sheen, and the ranks of the 27 that Winehouse has just joined - as circus clowns, as Christians being fed to lions - those who merit our laughter, our scorn, mixed with the morbid fascination of watching a train wreck.

Those who really care about these people are the ones who stay awake at night waiting for the inevitable phone call. They see the drawn-out suicide and suffer.

And then, when they self-destruct, the rest of us sit back and say what a tragedy it was, how addiction and mental illness should be treated like the diseases that they are.

Yeah, the way Winehouse lived her life was tragic. The way she died is tragic. But so is the entrainment value of it.

You say tomato, I say pompous ass

Dear BBC,

I read with great interest feedback to your article about Americanisms, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-14201796 and I'd like to join in the discussion.

I don't know why our colloquialisms are worming their way into your language. Perhaps it's because you have yankeephiles just as we - much to my never ending chagrin - have anglophiles.

What I'd like to know, however, is why Brits feel compelled to ridicule Americans at every turn? (A Brit would answer, "Because you're rich with opportunities to do so," I'm sure.) Is it a national past time for you, like baseball is to us? Do you get a tax break for it or something?

While I freely admit that some of those phrases and words listed - and others still - make my blood run backwards, isn't this just another opportunity for pompous people with a collective chip on their shoulder to try to rub our noses in British crap?

But while we're on the subject of language, let's look at just a few of your quaint turns of phrase that spring immediately to mind, shall we?

Mate. Are you on a ship? Have you not outgrown your...let's call them Etonian explorations? Are you reproducing with your friend?

Lift. In America, it's what you put in your shoes to make yourself appear taller. Or, you can give someone a lift to the post office. Or you can lift an object. In America, you don't enter a lift to take you from one level to the next. That would be an elevator.

Loo. I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for this word being synonymous with toilet, but I haven't bothered to figure it out.

On the subject of toilets, water closet? Is it really a closet? You pee in a closet? No wonder you're so cranky all the time.

Speaking of urine, when you're pissed, you're apparently drunk. We're just angry or ticked off. Maybe that's why you've peed in a closet. Don't worry, I've had friends do that when they were drunk, too.

Cheerio. Are you randomly demanding a bowl of cereal?

Que. Why would you call a rank of people a que? C'mon, admit it. Doesn't line work better here?

"I'd eat a scabby horse": Wow. You really must be hungry, but I've suddenly lost my appetite. Oh wait. Maybe you do eat scabby horses.

"I'm feeling peely-wally." Isn't easier to say you're hungover?

I'd also like to know whether you snicker behind your porcelain teacups when an Aussie throws another shrimp on the barbie. Or, closer to home, have you ever listened to your fine neighbors to the north? Your Scottish brethren seem to have a language all their own, but it's supposedly the Queen's English.

I like the Scots, really. They're pretty cool, down-to-earth people despite their grudging membership in the U.K. But I defy anyone who hasn't lived in Scotland to read Trainspotting without referencing the little dictionary Irvine Welsh so thoughtfully included in the back of the book.

Greet = cry. As in, "When I found out that a News of the World 'journalist' hacked into my murdered daughter's voice mail account, I sat down and had a wee greet."

Ken = Know. As in, "I ken those Yanks can be silly wee gits, but why don't I just get a life and worry about something important, like beating the crap out of that football hooligan?"

Cheerio Scottish variation: Cheerio the noo. Given that cheerio is actually a greeting, then cheerio the noo means good-bye for now. I think. Maybe the Scots were demanding a new bowl of cereal RIGHT NOW!

Anyway, thanks so much for the lesson in English. It really was enlightening, and you're always so great about correcting us.  Here's a friendly bit of advice from a Yankee: They're called colloquialisms. Use your own and leave ours alone if they somehow insult your sensitivities. Oh, and here's one that you left out: Suck it!

Who needs Netflix, anyway?

So the secret's out. Netflix sorta sucks.

I just dropped my membership after about a year of consistently having almost $11 drawn from my checking account when Netflix insists my membership level is just a low $7.99 (hidden fees, I always just assumed). Then, in an attempt to manipulate its customers to its on-demand option, I guess it decided to raise its fees to penalize those who, like me, couldn't be bothered to hook up my computer to my television.

I like it much more simple than that: Pop the DVD into my little DVD player, configure one of my three remote controls to the AV setting and then switch to another remote control to engage the DVD, a third controls the volume ... that's about as complicated as I'm willing to get. Maybe the computer-to-television thing is more simple, it's just that I'm an old dog and I like as few new tricks as possible.

So, with no hard feelings I cancelled my membership, but allegedly raised rates weren't the only reason.

1. It almost takes an act of Congress for me to sit through a single movie anymore. It almost always takes me two nights, and by the second night I've usually lost interest in finishing the DVD. Same with TV. I don't think it's my attention span shrinking, I think it's the offerings, but that's another subject altogether. Whatever the reason, I'm not getting my money's worth as it is.

2. The concept of ordering online - all things: furniture, food, entertainment, clothing - started to bother me a little. I'm as antisocial as the next guy, believe me, but human contact is definitely shrinking. Yeah, it saves time so you can spend it with those you really want to see, but I started missing some of these hands-on experiences, that face-to-face contact with a stranger, asking for advice and getting it from someone in this country.

3. At the same time, I could see this brave new world of commerce really taking its hold on me. The novelty would become the norm, and, left to my own devices I'd evolve into a shut-in. If I had enough self-discipline and aggression, I'd earn my entire living as a writer. I can see myself now, perched in front of a computer, cell phone in hand...something would definitely be missing from those interviews. I'd stop dressing, and hell, my hygiene would probably not be the priority it is now.

I heard there's even an "app" for texting in your confession - to what? An e-priest? Cyber-Vatican?  I'd never have to leave the house.

4. Getting back to point number 2, there's that old "buy-local" argument. When you order your books online from Amazon, or you order your movies from Netflix, the vast majority of that revenue goes somewhere else (unless, of course, you live in Seattle, or wherever else these Internet-based businesses call home). No one needs to be preached at regarding this argument - it's been around since before Wal-Mart overtook retail. So much of big box shopping or online is unavoidable anyway, but in times like this - and certainly in Detroit - it bears remembering: Buying local helps our local economy.

So I'm going to Thomas Video the next time I want to rent a movie. It's a hip place on Rochester Road in Royal Oak with vintage televisions all over the place, an enormous collection, and very cool, knowledgeable guys working there. They deserve my business. They work hard for it.

And they've always been much more helpful than the lame-ass DVD recommendations Netflix ever gave me based on my own poor choices.

Economics 101

It took me a long time to figure out that I know about as much as the next person - including politicians -about our economy. I know a little more or a little less than some.

After reading about the Greek economic implosion and its ensuing austerity policy, I remembered that the Greeks aren't the first to take such drastic measures: Ireland and Italy for instance, took the same steps last year. What austerity means to Greece is that programs, including its military (whatever that means) will be cut, and its retirement, pension-drawing age will be raised to 65 years old. Seems like too little too late, but at least it's a start.

Alternatives could be dire for the rest of Europe and the Euro. European nations would lose the money they loaned the Greek economy. Greek banks hold that debt, so their losses might need to be picked up by the government.

On the heals of Greece is media attention of our own debt ceiling looming large on the horizon. We're quickly reaching our credit limit and the ability to pay debts, while continuing to operate this behemoth government.

And with the deadline comes rather the predictable panic and posturing on Capital Hill. But that's not to say that there's no reason for panic. According to http://www.treasurydirect.gov/, our national credit debt in 2000 was 5,561,623,030,891.79. In September 2010 it was 13,623,030,891.79. I can't even conceive of that many numbers translating into dollars, and what's worse is that it's nearly tripled in 10 years.

I have a remarkable talent for boiling all sorts of things down to their simplest common denominator, I know. When there's no more money in my checking account, I stop writing checks. It's that simple. I know that it's not that simple in business and government, but we should start somewhere. Maybe we could use this to start really examining what austerity could mean for us.

I'm well versed in austerity. I've had to live on a shoestring budget so many times that I view credit cards as nothing more than a necessary evil, not as an easy means to a desired end. It's a hard lesson that the rest of the nation is learning as we tighten our belts, think long and hard before spending and really live within our means possibly for the first time in our lives - and for many it's incredibly hard because they're living within means dictated by government benefits: food stamps, unemployment benefits, medicaid.

Austerity could mean that we finally start taking a look at what some of those fabulous programs and benefits developed over the years by our fabulous government really costs us, and as importantly, whether they even work efficiently. Maybe it's time to either kill them, mothball them, or give them to private enterprise. All we have to do is look at our educational system and neglected infrastructure to know that things aren't as they should be. What's ludicrous to me is that, considering its stellar track record, this government proposes - even passed - more government-run  programs like health care. No other government on earth right now is expanding. Shouldn't we take our cue from that?

Instead of taking a look at its own budget the way we have all had to do, part of Congress wants to raise the ceiling to squeak by without fixing anything. And yes, I know even if they did look at budget cuts like never before, nothing would be fixed in time for the August 2nd deadline. But it's got to start somewhere. By all means, raise the ceiling to forestall default and global financial chaos, do whatever it takes. But then get off your complacent asses and finally do something to fix this mess - or messes.

I probably haven't read enough to know the mechanics of actually raising our debt ceiling, but by whose authority do we do this anyway? Do I get to tell Discover card that I've reached my limit, and by God, if they don't raise my debt ceiling I won't be able to pay? Exactly how does this work?

As of yesterday, President Obama began threatening that if the credit ceiling wasn't raised, Social Security checks may not be mailed on August 3. This from the man who campaigned on reducing the debt by half by some distant date when he wouldn't be in office any longer.

Wait a minute. I, along with generations of working people who have put money into this program have always been assured of one thing: Social Security, despite decades-long threats of extinction, has always been sacrosanct. Now, what you're telling me is that you - the U.S. Government - can not be trusted with my money. If businesses were managed as badly as our government, they'd have failed. The government has mismanaged our money so badly, that consequences can very well be as bad as the investment banking system in this country. And many of them were brought up on criminal charges.  Does anything more need to be said?

Six Degrees of Kim Kardashian

So the Casey Anthony jury handed down its not guilty verdict at approximately 2:15 p.m., and just about a half hour later, TMZ linked the trial to possibly one of the most over-exposed people on the planet: Kim Kardashian. Apparently she tweeted her opinion of the outcome.
http://www.tmz.com/2011/07/05/kim-kardashian-casey-anthony-verdict-shocked-oj-simpson/

TMZ noted that her father, Robert Kardashian was one of O.J. Simpson's defense attorneys.

Funny. While I was reading a news link about the Anthony trial, I kept thinking that this trial is about as sensational as the Simpson trial was in the '90s.

Kim tweeted that she was speechless. So are we, Kim. So are we.