Sunday, December 1, 2013

Memo To Turnover

DATE:  Sunday, December 1, 2013
FROM:  The Boca Deb
TO:    The South Florida Sun-Sentinel
RE:    Today's "Inside Employment" Section


Dear Art & Design Department:

I've been a subscriber to your print edition seven days a week since July 1995.  I watched The Sun-Sentinel go from a bulky black and white behemoth that got ink everywhere, to a pretty little colorfied thing that wouldn't offend even the most sensitive southern sensibilities.  Normally, that's a good thing except when your graphic artists try a little too hard to liven things up.

The hot pink, red, and orange on the front page of today's "Inside Employment" section goes way too far.  What the HELL were you thinking (or not) when you approved those colors for publication?  The clashing effect is enough to give a non-epileptic grand mal seizures!  Yes, I know it looks pretty, but newspaper readers don't want pretty.  We want news -- or in this case employment ads -- to get to the point.  Pretty won't get those two women in the cover photo the full time jobs they want, and it sure as hell won't get them taken seriously enough to even be considered.

Your plebeians should remember that they are designing the Employment Section, not the Lifestyle Section where such obnoxiously bright colors would be called for (though that still doesn't change my opinion of hot pink, red, and orange together).  If you keep this up, I'll have no alternative but to bill you for my emergency drugstore visit this morning.

Now I need to look for a job.  Pass the blue-blockers.  And a bromide.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

That Anthony Problem Again

It's not as bad as it was, since I found a way to escape to Investigation Discovery (Channel 111 on my cable system), but I'm still fed up to here with the media coverage of the Casey Anthony murder trial. But now that the verdict is in, I'm making the bold assumption that the endless media blitz will start to die down just in time for August sweeps.

Speaking of which, the Casey Anthony verdict was read at 2:15 PM Eastern Daylight Time (US). Not guilty of first-degree murder. Not guilty of aggravated manslaughter. Not guilty of aggravated child abuse. Guilty of lying to a police officer, which happens to be a misdemeanor (the other three charges are felonies). Sentencing is Thursday morning. Casey could be free as soon as Thursday afternoon. Then what will she do? What will we do without the media circus on TV? Oh, the horror!

Don't get me wrong. I think the media has the right to cover any court case it chooses to. I also think cameras belong in the court room. We, as viewers of TV and live streaming over the internet, have the right to see what the judge looks like, what the defendant looks alike, what the prosecution and defense attorneys look like, as well as other bit players such as witnesses. We also have the right to see these people make complete asses of themselves, as George and Cindy Anthony most certainly did, and waste taxpayer money, as did the judge who oversaw the case and the State's Attorney who prosecuted the case.

My point is that we need to know who the incompetent judges, states' attorneys, and public defenders, depending on your county or municipality, are so that we can vote them out of office. Judge Belvin Perry may be joining the unemployment lines the next time his seat on the bench comes up for vote in Orange County. So may the state's attorney who prosecuted Casey Anthony, which was so sloppily done that I'm surprised there even was a verdict. The evidence that was presented was circumstantial. It did not specifically put Casey Anthony with her daughter at the time of the daughter's death. However, I believe she is guilty as sin.

Seriously, I was expecting a hung jury. "I'm sorry, Your Honor, we're hopelessly deadlocked." The evidence wasn't only circumstantial, it was sloppy. The witnesses -- especially Cindy Anthony -- were scatterbrained. They were examined, cross-examined, and re-examined multiple times, and not a single one of them said anything of value. The reason Casey Anthony, however guilty she may have been, was acquitted of the felony charges against her was because the evidence presented by the prosecution wasn't strong enough to convict her. The jurors knew it, so they had no choice but to acquit.

I'm not going to call this a gross miscarriage of justice, even though it is. I am going to call it the biggest waste of taxpayer money since the O. J. Simpson murder trial. And as a pro-choice advocate, I'm going to call it a violation of Casey Anthony's civil rights. She wanted to give Caylee up for adoption, but her domineering, narcissistic mother Cindy wouldn't let her. If Cindy had let Casey exercise her right to choose by giving Caylee up for adoption, Caylee would be alive today and her family would know only the shame of having a promiscuous daughter, not the shame of having a killer in the family.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Eighteen (Or More) Reasons Not To Ruin Your Cat

I've always liked cats. I couldn't have any when I was growing up, though, because I was allergic -- swollen, itchy eyes and plugged up nose and sinuses. It was similar to hay fever but didn't last as long.

We adopted Kitty S., my mother's favorite client at the veterinary hospital where she worked, as a present for my mother's birthday. Kitty's people, Mr. and Mrs. S., were surrendering her because Mr. S. had developed an allergy to cats. Some years ago, as part of her well-kitten care at that same veterinary hospital, Kitty was spayed...and declawed.

I agreed whole-heartedly with Mr. and Mrs. S. decision to have Kitty spayed. In fact, I think that every pet should be spayed or neutered. But declawed? Kitty didn't like having her paws -- especially her front paws -- touched. She wasn't normally a biter, but she'd nip at anyone who tried to touch her paws. When she walked through the apartment she did so very gingerly, almost like she wasn't sure of her next step. Nor did she cover what she left in the litter boxIt had been a long time since she was declawed, so I didn't think she was in any pain.

Or was she?

I didn't know much bout the declawing procedure it self, only the reasons why people had their cats declawed (and I disagreed with each and every one of them). I did some research. I found out that when a cat is declawed, the veterinarian amputates a digit of each of the cat's fingers. That means severing the nerves, tendons, and muscles that connect the digit that contains the claw, and cutting into the bone to completely remove that digit. When a normal cat is declawed in the front, that's TEN amputations; if the back claws are included, that's EIGHTEEN amputations in all. If the cat is a Hemingway (i.e., polydactyl, having more than the normal eighteen toes), that could be as many as TWENTY-TWO or TWENTY-FOUR amputations. Are you with me so far?

Cats that are declawed have an increased tendency to develop behavior problems. They may stop using their litter box because the texture of the litter hurts the paws on which they were declawed. They may become biters out of frustration, because they have no claws with which to defend themselves. They may develop painful gait problems from the nerves that were severed, and didn't heal properly, while their claws were being surgically removed. They will never be able to climb or have a good cat-like stretch. They will never be able to go outside for fresh air, because heaven forbid they get into a fight with another cat, they will have no front claws with which to defend themselves. They'd have to use their teeth, which could lead to bites, infections, abscesses, a visit to the vet...and subsequent damage to one's bank account or credit card balance.

Okay, but what about the furniture destroyed by the cat with intact claws? Look at it this way -- furniture can be repaired or replaced. When a cat's declawed, its claws are gone forever. They do not grow back. If the declawing surgery isn't done correctly -- and there's no way of knowing if it was done correctly until AFTER the cat wakes up from the general anesthesia with its paws bandaged -- the cat will experience pain, and maybe even be crippled, for the rest of your life. Is your furniture worth ruining your cat?

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Mr. Anthony, You Have A Problem!

I sit here in my recliner with my laptop, TV remote, and BlackBerry watching HLN cover the Casey Anthony murder trial from Orlando, Florida. The case has been in the news -- local and national -- for the last three years. It's gotten so much coverage that jurors had to be culled from a neighboring county. There were no unbiased people in the Orlando area.

So let me get this right. The prosecution is alluding that Casey Anthony decided she didn't want her daughter anymore so she had her "put to sleep." Caylee Anthony had no choice, and I don't think Casey did either. She was awfully young when she had her daughter, not all that older than being a child herself. She wanted to give Caylee up for adoption when she was born, but her mother Cindy -- a nurse who just couldn't fathom why anyone, especially her daughter, would not want a child -- intimidated Casey into keeping the baby. I hope you're happy, Cindy. If you had let Casey give your grand-daughter up for adoption, she'd probably still be alive.

The defense's argument is almost believable. Children do drown in back yard pools, and when they do it is a tragic accident. (Never mind where were the parents/where was the babysitter? That's a whole 'nother blog entry.) But did Caylee really drown? Or did Casey hold her head under the water until...? Regardless of how Caylee Anthony allegedly drowned, if she drowned at all, first responders like police officers -- George Anthony, for example -- are trained in CPR and could administer CPR to the victim of the drowning until EMTs or paramedics arrived and took over. But still, the idea that a man trained to catch criminals and save lives would even consider helping to cover up a death. I don't care if your daughter drowns your grand-daughter and asks you to help cover it up! There are some things you just don't do!

Mr. Anthony, you have a problem!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Anthony, It's Prince Spaghetti Day! (And Don't Forget Your Weiner!)

It started with accusations of being hacked. Congressional Representative Anthony Weiner (D-NY) alleged that hackers hacked (it's what they do, isn't it?) his Twitter account and sent some, uh, risque photos of "someone." Weiner denied -- adamantly -- that the semi-naked man in the photos was him. Because the photos were leaked by Andrew Breitbart, I thought this was just another right-wing smear campaign.

Or, Rep. Anthony Weiner really is a weiner.

As more details about the photos emerged, and Rep. Weiner kept working damage control that was only making things worse, I recalled what I had heard on a right-wing radio talk show. Although I am not a right-winger, I agree with this statement: "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." Anthony, dear, was there something you weren't telling us?

Then the shit hit the fan. On Monday, June 6, 2011 at about 4:00 PM, Rep. Weiner held a press conference. More damage control? I thought. No, just an admission of guilt. Guilt. So, he did it after all! He carried on with these women he didn't know -- over the internet -- both while he was engaged and after he got married. Was his only regret getting caught? Or does he have to look at his wife when he comes home every night and see the betrayal in her eyes?

Seeing the betrayal in her eyes, I think, is only the beginning.

In The Summertime

It's summertime. I have no plans. I spend my days on the recliner, with my laptop computer, BlackBerry, and TV remote, trying to write my first novel. Noon rolls around and I'm still here, on the recliner. Time for Looney Toons. Highlight of my day. My father whizzes by while running the vacuum and starts with the questions:

Q. When are you going to clean your room?
A. When I get around to it.

Q. When are you going to get up and take a shower?
A. Soon.

There's a Jewish holiday starting tonight -- Shavuot, I think -- so he feels the need to clean the apartment. Dusting. Vacuuming. Scrubbing. Shining. Why? He won't even be home for the holiday. He's staying at a friend's house that's within walking distance of temple, as our home is several miles away from where he attends services.

He's finished cleaning. He's sweating bullets and breathing heavily. "Is the air conditioner on?" he asks.

We live in south Florida. OF COURSE the air conditioner is on. "If you are warm, lower the thermostat," I said.

For someone who complains I never do anything around the house, and then who goes and does my share of the housework because "it needed to be done," he really needs to learn to relax. It's summer, for goodness sakes!

That reminds, me, Sylvester is trying to put a bell around the neck of a giant mouse...