teh Mexigogue

I sang “Stormy Monday Blues” last night at Leroy’s. It’s not a song I would normally sing. It’s G’s song but G got banned like a year ago so he hasn’t been around in a long time. When I sang it, I was actually doing a parody of his singing style. Nice Rack got it so she coaxed me along in parts where I faltered. G had this au-au-au-auaooh-au thing he used to do so she sang it like that. I was crackin’ up singing it but only Rack and I knew I was doing a parody. After the song I got a lot of props. People told me “GOOD SONG!” I was like thanks. But little did they know I was only an imitator. If G was there he would have punched me. Then he would have shook my hand and said nice job. Heh heh!

They’re making everybody in my office go through sexual harassment training. I hate this. This issue has popped up from time to time ever since I’ve been here (ten years). The thing that gets me is that when an issue comes up like one we had eight years ago (fifty something year old man leans into this 20 year old chick’s cubicle and says I had a dream about you last night and when she asked [flustered] about what he smiles and says I can’t tell you), that buys us all a half-day training.

What sucks worse than that is that not only do they forbid us the overt and obvious stuff (promising someone a raise for sexual favors), they also forbid us to not offend people who we might not even be aware are there (someone around the corner and out of sight) and who we might not even know we offended because they don’t complain. It’s enough that a line of conversation between two people might offend an invisible third party! Outrageous!

What I really hate is when a woman makes a slight sexual reference comment and then says to me “I hope that didn’t offend you because I didn’t mean to and I don’t want to get in trouble.” That the whole office is on tiptoes is more detrimental to morale than the original harassment was in the first place (and what the original sin was we don’t know because they won’t say). One beautiful chick pinched my nipples and then actually apologized!! I’m like sorry?? I was about to hand you my wallet!!

This stuff is demoralizing. It’s getting to where you can’t even wear mirrors on your shoes anymore!

I’m not a hippie. I don’t love everybody, hell I don’t even like most people. I don’t desire world peace and I’m not particularly disturbed when people I don’t know get shot. But I desire good will with all people who get on this blog because you’re all cool as hell. For the love of god, peace! I don’t make friends very often so I don’t want to lose any of them, or even have any avoid this blog. So if at all possible, please (as Bill and TEd would say) be excellent to each other. OR I WILL FUCKING STAB YOU!!!!! Thank you, drive thru!

Rachael sends me an e-mail this morning that says “Post dammit, I’m bored!”

Ok, number one: who died and made me the entertainment monkey? And number two, y’all don’t need me. You’ve got your very own soap opera cast right here. You’ve got:

UNLV who is like Jack Abbot from Young and the Restless with the crass and inflammatory remarks that get people riled up. One of my favorite Jack Abbot lines: “I never wanted that child, I don’t want anything to do with that child, and if you send him to me in the summer I’ll send him right back!” And you have;

Rachael who is kind of like Nina because. .. heh heh! Nothin’!

And I’m like Philip who was married to Nina but died in a drunk driving accident (FYI this was back in ’80s.)

Since Lauri doesn’t post anymore she’s kind of like Sheila who left Young and the Restless and went to Bold and the Beautiful where she got a job as a lab tech so she could switch someone’s DNA sample but then the jackass security guard who had a crush on her idly spins the thing that holds the samples so they got mixed up.

Dave is kind of like Malcolm. Not because he was the black guy (ok, that did figure into it a little bit) but because Malcolm was hip to the streets but then moved to Jenowa City and started to have a life in the normal world. And then he ****ed his brother’s woman when she was high on medication and thought Malcolm was Neil and and Malcolm was like ok! Wait, that doesn’t sound like Dave. That sounds more like Damien. But he’s not on the blog.

I can’t remember any libertarian gun toting cowboys on Y and the Restless. So Phelps will have to be. .. . um. .. . Don Knotts. Ok that didn’t fit at all, but every show needs a Don Knotts to sort of. . . um. .. get things going.

Hey wait. . . .. How do I know all this soap opera shit?????

Preface
I have been itching to write an essay on this subject for quite some time but I was concerned about alienating people who are close to me. I have one friend who helped put together child support legislation in another state, another friend who receives child support payments, and a close relative who works for child support enforcement (I shall not say who he is because they like to remain incognito). Add to this that I’ve got a child who occasionally reads the blog and you can see how precarious this is. Just remember if we still disagree by the end of this posting, disagreement is not dissension and we are still down, much love. Without any further ado, here is my take:

My father left when I was a baby. When you’re married and you have three kids and you abandon that family, you are selfish in the destructive sense of the word (there is a positive type of selfishness out there but abandoning your family ain’t it.) I don’t mention this as an emotional appeal meant to tug at your heart. My point is that it’s people like my father that were the impetus for child support legislation in the first place, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I start by asserting an axiom: divorce is bad for children. I know there are some exceptions to the rule like in the cases of violent and out of control monstrous parents, but as a general rule divorce is bad because it results in financial damage to both parents which then translates into financial damage to the child. How is this possible? Because now instead of two parents paying for one house, one light bill and one heat bill, etc., you now have two parents paying for two houses, two light bills and two heat bills. etc. What follows from this axiom is that splitting up families is bad (hmkay) and should, if at all possible, be avoided (hmkay).

Now I’m not one of those people who believe in a hands-on government. I believe that government should stay out of the realm of personal issues because in the absense of government people have to contend with life. Life rewards good decisions and punishes bad ones. If you work, you get to eat. If you don’t work, you have to beg, steal, or die. These options suck so we try to avoid them. Naturally then, in the absense of government intervention, most people will work. A similar thing happens in this instance. In the absense of government intervention, most marriages would remain intact because divorce is financially ruinous.

But then you get fathers who abandon their families effectively breaching the marriage contract (and marriage is after all a contract.) The children suffer. What to do what to do? In retrospect I will say that the courts should have been used to punish the party that broke the marriage contract. This because the implied contract when you marry someone is “I will be there for you and I will be there for us. I will also take care of our children.” But courts do not make a distinction about who breaks the marriage contract. They instead invoke the concept of quasi contract.

Some legal background: The quasi contract is when a court contrives a contract where none exists (that is why it is called quasi which is latin for “almost” or bullshit.) This is done under the theory that it is unjust for society to allow one party to benefit at the expense of another. The classic example is an unconscious man is taken to the hospital. The hospital can bill him even though he wasn’t awake and could not therefore consent to the contract. A quasi contract is then a contract that did not involve consent.

This is the key issue here because nobody in their right mind would enter into a contract where you offer the other party a monetary reward for breaking that contract. That’s an even worse idea than Chris Webber’s infamous time out with no time outs left. But that’s the unintended consequence of child support laws as they’re presently written: they contribute to the high divorce rate by making allowing people to take money away from their ex-spouses without their consent.

Consent, by the way, is the cornerstone of a free society. Working because you’re offered a wage? That’s consent. Working against your consent is slavery. Consensual sex? Woo hoo! Sex against your consent? You get the picture.

Punishing the party who breaks the marriage contract rather than invoking a quasi contract that rewards the person who breaches the contract would have accomplished two things: it would have held parties to their agreement AND it would have had the effect of using government to strengthen marriage (if you’re an active government intervention kind of person.) Remember: marriage good for children, divorce bad.

Instead an interesting thing happened. Courts were used to award money to custodial parents based on need. Never mind who divorced who, all you had to do was get separated and show need.

Ladies and gentlemen, the divorce rate in this country is now about 60%. Studies have also shown that in most cases divorces are filed for by the women, not the men. So the small percentage of marriages in which men abandoned their families has been addressed by the government. The divorce rate is now at an all time high. So now instead of 10% of children being raised in single parent homes, it’s now more than 50%. Thank you government!

For those of you who still maintain that child support is for the children, I say no, marriage is for the children. If you ask me which I would rather have as a child, that my mom could have hunted my father down and gotten a periodic check from Friend of the Court or if I would have rather had a father in the household who worked and was role model and taught me how to fight and play football, I would have rather had a father. As it was my mom taught me how to fight. That’s why everybody in school always wanted to fight me. See Dave, I’m not the only one who has gotten more than my share of ass whuppins.

An interesting thing about Michigan’s child support formula. It’s based on how much each parent makes. This brings to mind the famous slogan “From each according to his abilities, to each according to his need.” Oh, that sounds very nice! Let’s see, who said that? Oh yeah. Karl Marx! We all know how financially successful the nations that were set up on his principles were. Compare that with Ayn Rand’s assertion that need doesn’t entitle you to anything (this is the gist of her novel “Atlas Shrugged”, if you haven’t read it, make it your next read.) Regardless of the intent, using need as a guiding principle does not work for macro economies, why then would anyone think it will work for micros?

In summary, I’m right, the current system is wrong. If you disagree you are either misguided or maybe even a communist. Or mabye I’m wrong. Maybe divorce is really really good for children and I’m just spouting nonsense. But above all, and whoever you are reading this, we better still be friends at the end of this. Or I’ll stab you!

(I’m getting to like this stabbing motif)

These people tried to sacrifice a 21 year old chick to me at the bar
the other night. This middle aged lady was leading this girl by the
hand through the bar. The girl had her head down and her
eyes were looking up like they were going to roll to the back of her
head. I was wondering if the girl was retarded and where she was
being led to. Suddenly the stopped at my table and the middle aged
lady says “This is my niece Crystal. She’s just sitting there by
herself and she really should be talking to somebody so I’m going to
sit her here next to you and you can talk to her. She shouldn’t be
sitting by herself doing nothing.”

Then I got it. The girl wasn’t retarded. She was like oh my god aunt
so-and-so, I can’t believe you’re actually making me go meet someone.
She sat down and had this exasperated look on her face. “This wasn’t
my idea” she says. “Don’t worry about it,” I reply. Let’s just sit
here and pretend to talk to each other and they will be none the
wiser.”

Most likely she is just an introvert surrounded by extraverts who
think there is something wrong with her for just sitting there being
herself. It’s a damn shame because I know how that is and some
extraverts automatically think that if you’re solitary and quiet that
you’re just dying to talk to someone but you just don’t have the guts.
Often that’s very far from the truth, some people just don’t feel
like socializing. I was trying to make it easy on her by saying let’s
just pretend to talk.

Crystal was quite beautiful in fact. She was tall girl with a
physique that reminiscent of Bambi when she walked around in those
heels. She was dressed too well for Leroy’s. We did actually make
small talk. I picked up a hint of something other than midwestern in her accent. She said it was Kentucky. I spent the rest of the night trying to convince her that we’re cousins.

When you’re a god, they sacrifice virgins to you. When you’re the Mexigogue they sacrifice sluts. I shall not be picky. I am well pleased with the masses. I will hold off on the plagues.

Actually I don’t know if she’s a slut. I was just due for a misogynist statement. I’m good for a few of those a week.

I was in an online discussion that evolved into interpersonal relationships and dating. What follows is one guy’s comments about womens’ attitudes toward tough guys and then my response. I like when discussions take turns like this.

> > Isn’t this the prevailing thought of women though?
> I have come across many women who don’t particularly like tough guys.
> (thank God)… however even such women often seem to treat these tough
> guys with a lot more respect and apparent interest, than they would
> treat me with. Later of course they will tell me that they totally
> dislike that personality (the tough guy)… so I try to understand.
>
> Something that is both nice and at times not very nice about being a
> sensitive sort of guy… is that I am often assimilated by the women… as
> ‘one of them’.. this fun at times as women totally drop their guard
> with me and we enjoy deep and meaningful ties… this can be a pain
> however if I actually want some one to like me… Also when the tough
> guy.. walks in and drops a comment and my (girls) friends blush…
> its not easy being me…

Women say they don’t like tough guys. But tough guys get more than sensitive guys. This is an empirically proven fact validated by the Surgen General, computed by NASA, and four out five dentists recommend it. So this tells me that while on an intellectual level a woman doesn’t want to be dominated, in a deep-seated psychological level, I think the tough guy translates into the archetype of that heroic tough guy caveman who can tear the sabre-tooth rabbit limb from limb to protect the family. And women react to that. Ergo, tough guys get more.

I must be getting popular. The police called me and said to stick around, I’m a person of interest!

No, just kidding. This blog is about this roast lamb I’m making. I poked holes into this lamb shoulder blade and jammed half cloves of garlic into it all around. Then I took like some corriander, cardamom, cumin, rosemary, black pepper, and salt and put it in a bowl and mixed it up. I added enough olive oil to turn that stuff into a paste and I smeared it all over the lamb. Now I stuck that sucker in the oven at a low temperature and after a while I’m going to have food. Better yet it’s pretty much gonna be all for me because no one else in my household eats lamb. Muhuhahahahaahaha!!! My nefarious plot to take over the world has begun!!!

In January 1993 I was working through a temp service and landed my first assignment with the State. I was assigned to the Michigan Insurance Bureau filling in for some administrative person who was on a medical leave. Since I had never worked in a State office before, the staff didn’t expect too much out of me so I spent my time picking up little bits of knowledge here and there and familiarizing myself with bureaucratic procedure.

The lady who was supposed to be showing me the ropes didn’t like me. In fact, creepy was the word she used to describe me on the day I came in wearing a black dress shirt with a black and white tie and black and white suspenders. That’s back when I wore dress clothes to work and my homies thought it was absolutely phat. They said I looked like Mexican Mafia. So I didn’t sweat what that lady thought.

There was one person I did pay attention to and that was this consultant (I don’t remember her title so I’ll just call her that) named Natalai. She was a black chick in the mostly white office who was older than me. I was 23 and she was about 37. She was real nice looking and friendly to boot so I spent a lot of time wandering toward her area when I’d come back from getting coffee. Of course since I was a temp and she was a professional type, she was making like at least three times as much as me but that didn’t bother me none. We got along just fine. We were both diehard Buffalo Bills fans so we always had something to talk about. I just didn’t know where the invisible line was though so I took care not to cross wherever it might be.

After my assignment ended there I worked elsewhere for a few months. I think there were two assigments in between but in the summer I was sent back to work in the Ottawa building where Natalai still worked on the third floor. I was now on the first floor with the Department of Natural Resources. My new coworkers didn’t like my creepy ass and didn’t like them none back so on break or at lunch I’d sometimes bump into Natalai and we’d talk some more. She was about the nicest person you’d ever want to meet.

At one point this guy in her office told her it was his birthday so she went over and gave him a big hug. It was a friendly hug but I was envyous. How can I be down. Later on as I’m talking to her on the phone I mention “After you gave (old dude) a hug I was about to lie and tell you it was my birthday too.”

Her voice comes back thick and sensous “Michael, are you hitting on me?”

“Uhhhhhhhhh. . . .. ” (in my defense I did not say “huh huh!” after that, I only thought it). Usually I can think quick enough on my feet to manage a response but at that moment I was speechless.

Towards the end of the day I was sitting there just thinking about her. I was totally digging this chick but I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining the whole thing or if there was really something there. Suddenly the phone rang. I had an eerie premonition and when I picked it up I heard her voice!

“What are you doing?”

“Oh my god!” I said. “I was just thinking about you!!”

“You were?” she said.

“Yeah! I was gonna call you. But then I said ‘fuck dat bitch’ so I didn’t call!”

Not the classiest thing to say but she laughed her head off. Whew! Now I’m thinking I gotta be more careful.

Later on after work she called me upstairs and we were browsing through the newspaper for some reason. She was on the movies page and she said “We should go see a movie.” That was female code for “Since you’re too much of a bitch to make the first move let me go ahead and make it.” I was like yessss!!!! I didn’t care what it was, we could have went to go see Pete’s Dragon, I was all in! So we went.

I don’t remember what movie it was, I don’t remember a damn thing about the ride except it was a sweet ass car. I think I was more in a daze than anything. Beautiful beautiful woman, nice ride, she’s intelligent as hell but the best was yet to come. We got back to her place.

I was on cloud nine, I think we had some food, everything was perfect. Then she drops the bomb of a question:

“Do you want to see the Buffalo Bills NFL record come from behind playoff victory when Jim Kelly got hurt and Frank Reich took over for him?”

I could have died. “Don’t fuck with me now. Do you really have it on tape?”

“Yes” she smiled.

The rest of the night was a blur. I was close to tears. I actually had been taping that game as it happened that year before but when the Bills fell back to such a margin that no NFL team had ever recovered from in a playoff game I turned the tape off in disgust and stopped watching. I had kicked myself ever since because it was just then that the turnaround happened. I never thought I’d see the end of that game. And I did that night. It was the best of my life.

Oh and I scored too. I wasn’t gonna leave that out.

I’m in the office today helping somebody submit an online nomination for an award for this guy. The lady keeps reading aloud how he’s being nominated for the “Robert Wood Johnson Community Health Leadership Award.” I’m like mheh! ‘wood!’ ha ha! ‘Johnson’! She gives me a funny look. She reads it again and again. I keep having to stifle laugher.

Then I say that it’s stupid to give someone an award for doing their job. She said he doesn’t do it for the job, he does it for ‘the community’. I’m like damn the community. That’s not what I work for. I work to make money. Commun it- communi - commun- ist. COMMUNIST?? Hell NO!

It’s a long way to five o’clock..