Ten

Got tagged by Wandering the Ether to list 10 random facts. Here goes:

1. They thought I was border-line autistic when I was a kid. I used to read the phone book for hours. Then my mom got me a football for my 5th birthday and I started making friends.

2. I was an average football (soccer) player, and I grew up to be an average student, an average bass player, an average backgammon player, an average writer, and an average looking guy. I got me an above-average lady, though. I guess I have an above-average luck.

3. Honey complains I misrepresented myself when she met me because I had hair and I was in a band. I say she misrepresented herself because she was holding a pint and she doesn’t drink. Objection sustained.

4. I’m afraid one day I’ll start snoring and Honey will make me sleep on the couch. Then my transformation into my dad will be complete.

5. My dad was an officer, a real army man, but he wanted me to join the IT department in the Israeli military. He said he knew people. But I wanted to be a fighter just like him (or better, to be honest).

6. I heard the explosion that killed my friend in Lebanon and thought it was fireworks. Then I saw the helicopters and realized something bad happened.

7. I never cried like I did the next day, and I never will.

8. Then, at other times, I’m cold and distanced in the face of others’ pain, and when I wake up from my daydreams I think maybe I’m still borderline autistic.

9. I can’t help closing my eyes when I hear Leftfield’s “Storm 3000.” Thank God, there’s still some hippy in me.

10. Won some money at the Borgata last week. I was on a slot machine bonus round and I stayed there for a while. A small crowd surrounded me, and with Honey by my side... I don’t think she’s ever been so proud.


Now, I'll tag my three latest links:

1. Cafe Leone
2. East Med Sea Peace
3. The Other Side of My Head

As usual, feel free to ignore this tag. That is, if you're EVIL!

My IKEA Story

Last year, during my five months of unemployment, I went to a job interview for a call-center rep. position at IKEA. By then I had already been rejected by many places, which didn’t do much for my self esteem. I mean, you call Comcast costumer service and think, What kind of idiots are they hiring? Apparently, not this one.

During those five months I learned to readjust my values in order to play the game of employment-seeking. If on the first interview I thought they would obviously see my genius (can I use my mom as a reference?), by the time of my triple-digit interview I learned that I wasn’t fired from my last job, but that “The position ended.” I learned that I wasn’t simply a cashier in a store but a “Senior Sales Associate.” I learned I had people skills! Yes! And I bought a suit. I was ready.

So here I was in the hub of Swedish Minimalism, waiting for HR. I was sitting on a low sectional IKEA couch. Do I need to describe how ugly the couch was or can you already imagine it for yourselves? Good. Now, they had two items on the coffee table: Time Magazine and the IKEA catalog. “Is this a test?” I thought as I started leafing through the catalog of urban decay.

I repeated to myself: Inexpensive products for people who love designer furniture or It has everything for everyone or even the original Affordable solutions for better living—one of these mantras was getting into the interview. I was going to get this job.

So here comes this elderly lady, shaking my hand like she was a ghost, doing the ol’ “Did you have any problem finding this place?” (Another thing I learned: They don’t really care). And we go into a tiny room, and she slouches in her chair and asks me to tell her about my past experiences, so foolishly I start doing just that.

At the end of the interview she says, “Looks like you’ve lived an interesting life,” which in English (or Swedish) means You’re not what we’re looking for. So I ask, “What kind of person are you looking for?” and the elderly lady from IKEA raises herself slowly and lifts her finger to accentuate the last words of the interview. “We’re looking for someone who could sell, Sell, SELL.”

And that was it.

About Those Damn Mexicans

So there's this buzz going on right now on the left. Bush has made a political mistake and turned his so-called base against him. Some on Free Republic call for his impeachment. And I say, if only someone on Free Republic could spell impeachment...

Now's our chance. Finally we can get the higher ground by getting tough on immigration. We can take the Democratic Party away from the Move Ons and into victory by building this high wall and kicking immigrants back home. It's not just our right, it's our duty, now more than ever.

But why is that? We get our opinions or at least our water-cooler topics of conversation from the media. Why are we talking about immigration now and not four years ago? Simple. Four years ago we were busy debating the sanctity of marriage. Why haven't we talked about illegal immigration twenty years ago? Because we were talking about crack cocaine. Why haven't we been talking about damn Mexicans until now? Because we were talking about AIDS. And about hunger in Ethiopia. And the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And Iran and Lybia and Vietnam and inner-city violence and drugs and the morality of euthanasia.

And now? We have endless wars all over this crumbling planet, inner-city violence rises and wage decreases, people still go hungry due to economic policy dictated by the greed of the few, and people still die of AIDS. Yet somehow we dare talk about illegal immigration.

They're destroying our culture and our way of life - What culture are you talking about? I don't like to watch cars driving around in circles. I don't like backyard fireworks. I don't like wrestling. But it doesn't destroy my culture, just like my activities don't destroy your culture. When they cancel a Nascar race for an emergency discussion about Nabokov we'll talk. Meanwhile, drink your beer and shut up.

Security!!! Now more than ever!!! - It's been said before and I hate to repeat the obvious here, but the 9/11 attack wasn't done by illegal immigrants. This country was relatively safe without a wall, and it will continue to be relatively safe. People die from preventable car accidents, from an ill-conceived war on drugs, from poverty and hunger and even from boredom-driven suicide. People die. It's a fact of life.

They're stealing our jobs - Spend more time looking for a job rather than going online. Go to school and learn a trade. Become a philosopher. And what's so wrong about having people driven to work and succeed in a country that has lost its sense of self-pride? Democrats love to put their heads in the sand and hope for the best. They apologize to people in other countries, saying "Don't blame me. I didn't vote for him." But they're just as guilty as the Free Republican ignorant xenophobes, because one day they woke up, and not knowing why, they said, "Maybe he does have those weapons." The next morning they woke up and said, "I'm all for equal rights, but why do they have to call it marriage?" And yesterday they woke up, after five hundred years of illegal immigrants coming to this country, and they said,

They don't even speak English - Then teach them. Help them. You'll feel better about yourself in the morning.

A Mistake in Brooklyn

In mid-2000, we visited some friends in Brooklyn. I had some wine and quickly got drunk. A few hours into the evening, we heard a car honking. Our friend went out and was met by a neighbor angry about her car blocking the driveway. Our friend quickly ran back inside, took her car keys and her dog—meaning to take it for a short walk after she moved the car—then ran back outside and put the dog in the back seat. But even after parking his car, the neighbor continued to yell. Apparently, she answered. He lost it and tried to punch her in the face. She moved her head forward and the neighbor hit her dog instead. Distressed and shocked, she went back inside and told us what happened.

Drunk and over-confident, I went outside to face the neighbor, but the closer I got, the more I realized how big he was, and by the time we faced each other and he was holding my shirt collar and me pretty much on tip toes reaching to grab his, I knew there was no turning back, and I kind of knew I was in trouble.

When the man realized Honey called the police he simply let go of my shirt and walked away.

Twenty minutes later, two police officers came, a black man and a white woman. They took a statement from our friend and walked outside to look around. Did anyone know the man? Had anyone seen him before? Suddenly one of our friends shouted, “There he is, he’s getting into his car,” pointing at a person getting into a car at the end of the darkened block. The car pulled out and started driving toward us and the police officer moved to the middle of the road, took out his flashlight, and waved it for the car to stop. The car continued. Now, the officer was waving his flashlight with one arm while the other was pulling his gun out. Suddenly, the driver realized what was going on and slammed on the break. When the officer aimed his flashlight at the car we saw an old couple with their hands touching the roof of their car, shaking.

“Sorry,” my friend told the police officer. “It was dark.”

“Well,” he said, in a city still reeling from the Amadou Diallo shooting, “Now you see how mistakes are made.”

Thinkers of the World, Unite!

I've been tagged for the first time (thanks, Bill Blunt). It's nice to be recognized for writing. One step at a time. So here I am, using my powers for good and spreading the wealth, tagging five thinkers for the Thinking Blogger Award.

And as for those five bloggers, if any of you decides NOT to do this, you have every right to ignore it. However, my Statcounter knows where you live.

Chronically Sick, But Still Thinking I Think - You don't get forty comments on each post in a relatively new blog just for drawing cute pictures. Some of us pretend we're thinkers by philosophizing for hours but eventually leading our readers in circles. But Sebastien can draw a picture, show a video, and talk about a favorite 15th century painter without pretentious aspirations, yet a whole unifying picture begins to make sense.

durante vita - With topics as varied as modern living is, durante vita treats it all with respect (although when it comes to The View, maybe with too much respect).

Is it Raining? - For those who fear this award will continue to go in circles for What-is-Life-All-About-ers, I give you Spooky. Not many words, but the guy is a genius.

U N L O A D E D - It's as cool and intelligent as a Robert Rodriguez-Quentin Tarantino double-feature. (Now, I know you're busy with the grand re-opening, so I won't be offended if you take your time).

The Peace Tree - The quest for peace. A poetic, inspiring blog.

And apologies to all of you on my link list on the right. If you're there it means I appreciate your writing and believe in you. Cheers. Now, here are the rules. Cut-and-Paste:


The participation rules are simple:

1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote (here is an alternative silver version if gold doesn't fit your blog).