As you may recall in a past post, I went to the CVS MinuteClinic to have earwax removed. I was hearing better, but somehow my mind was like, "just for your own safety, don't sleep on the right ear." I've been waking in the middle of the night, so my sleep cycle has been way off.
My 6 week appointment was due at the PCP and I arrived for my appointment early. He was running good this time, and in between talking about my weight (lost 5 pounds!) I mentioned my ear.
Unlike the NP, who used a WaterPik, my PCP used a giant syringe, which he loaded a warm solution and placed it into my ear canal and flushed it. It was actually a little more painful than the WaterPik, but it actually does a better job. There was only temporary hearing loss, but he discovered a huge plug that the NP couldn't get out.
The PCP had a huge curette that looked like tweezers. He told me to hold still, and then, a rush of air went to my ears. The giant plug was finally out. Now my hearing is 100% better.
I will still use the MinuteClinic when the PCP isn't around.
7/08/2009
Cult of Personality - worship at your own risk
The only Michael Jackson I really liked was the MJ between 1979 (when "Off the Wall" came out) and 1983 ("Thriller"). That MJ was cool and had his music tighter than a drum and it sounded good. I couldn't moonwalk like him, but it was good music.
As he got through his 30s and 40s, MJ got more and more eccentric. Whispers of his Peter Pan complex and his prediliction for having young boys in his bed began to leak out. At first, people began to dismiss it as "Michael being Michael," or "aw, that's cute." When young boys came forward and started alluding that MJ was sleeping with these young boys, and much more than REM sleep. Then the whispers became screams, and suddenly the Jheri-curled dancer who made Thriller the best selling album of all time - 47 to 109 times platinum - transformed into an ugly, creepy pervert of a man.
During that time when MJ could do no wrong, and much like a blind parent who denies their child is committing these sins, their legions of hardcore fans still believe MJ is innocent. I myself think that some of the kids who came forward took advantage of MJ's Peter Pan complex, and MJ's fame could never, ever be tarnished, so payoffs were necessary to keep the press away - the same press who would singlehandedly destroy MJ if they were allowed to. The tabloids and the paparazzi do it with a malignant pleasure and accuracy that would make a dedicated sniper take notes.
There is a very dark side to this kind of idolatry, and that is to zealously and fervently protect the idol by any means necessary. The heckler's veto works wonders - mention that MJ was a pedophile and you're immediately branded a racist. The Manson family were experts at keeping up with Charles Manson's warped wishes - Squeaky Fromme could make a master class on how to carry on the Manson Family tradition by attempting to assassinate President Gerald Ford. North Korea has the market cornered on idol worship, as does Cuba, Libya, Zimbabwe, Iran, and many other dictatorships. (Unfortunately, Saddam Hussein is no longer available for comment.)
The press did wall-to-wall coverage of MJ's funeral, and I found it a disgusting display of excess. Even though MJ was the biggest record seller of all time, there are bigger - much bigger - fish to fry than to have a Hollywood-style funeral. If the press pursued other problems in our country and the world as fervently or more so than they did MJ's funeral, can you imagine the real, tangible change that could happen? If Lindsay Lohan breaks a nail, or Britney Spears forgets her underwear again, or we get the sad backstory of an American Idol contestant, or a rapper gets shot, or some kind of kitschy propaganda that we're supposed to practice but the celebrities do not it's immediate news. It's infotainment. The economy, wars, and other things gets shoved aside - which is really too bad.
That's it in a nutshell: the press raises lowlifes, douchebags, murderers, guerillas, floozies, corrupt, and the just plain evil to superhero status. It's a disgusting and disturbing trend done for one thing and one thing only: ratings. Snatch away the above low-hanging fruit and ban access to society's idiots, and the press is left to twist in the wind until another trendy story comes along.
Ironically, the people who deserve to be idolized don't want it. Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, Richard Phllips, the Armed Forces, whistleblowers, nurses, EMT's, cops, firefighters, and many others sacrifice fame and glory because they don't want to be seen as spotlight hoggers. They just do their jobs, and they get their due applause when it's warranted, then go home. And they're modest - they don't cock their eyes and faces into some kind of Botox-laden pout and shift their bodies into model poses so the cameraman doesn't see the stains in their shirts or the runs in their nylons.
In our non-celebrity lives, we have our own, far more benign version of idolatry, which if we don't temper with reality we become obsessesive, infatuated, and then zealous, sometimes ending in "if I can't have you, no one else will." Love crushes are those harmless times of worship where we take our unrequited love and elevate them to a god-like status. More often than not, the object of your infatuation knows your designs and is flattered, but often it ends with a little bit of disappointment. When the crush gets blown into bigger-than-life status - just like Michael Jackson - it can be devastating to learn that the crush is not a nice person at all, and is likely using your infatuation as a springboard to someone else, or just for their own shallow entertainment. It shows more insecurity and manipulation than anything else.
Whoever you make your hero, beware the cult of personality. There are no perfect idols in the world; just a lot of false ones. Barry Gibb wasn't kidding when he talked about his baby brother Andy's "first fame," which brought him riches and Victoria Principal to his front door. What destroyed Andy Gibb? Drugs and a heart attack from myocarditis - all because he wanted everyone to love him.
As he got through his 30s and 40s, MJ got more and more eccentric. Whispers of his Peter Pan complex and his prediliction for having young boys in his bed began to leak out. At first, people began to dismiss it as "Michael being Michael," or "aw, that's cute." When young boys came forward and started alluding that MJ was sleeping with these young boys, and much more than REM sleep. Then the whispers became screams, and suddenly the Jheri-curled dancer who made Thriller the best selling album of all time - 47 to 109 times platinum - transformed into an ugly, creepy pervert of a man.
During that time when MJ could do no wrong, and much like a blind parent who denies their child is committing these sins, their legions of hardcore fans still believe MJ is innocent. I myself think that some of the kids who came forward took advantage of MJ's Peter Pan complex, and MJ's fame could never, ever be tarnished, so payoffs were necessary to keep the press away - the same press who would singlehandedly destroy MJ if they were allowed to. The tabloids and the paparazzi do it with a malignant pleasure and accuracy that would make a dedicated sniper take notes.
There is a very dark side to this kind of idolatry, and that is to zealously and fervently protect the idol by any means necessary. The heckler's veto works wonders - mention that MJ was a pedophile and you're immediately branded a racist. The Manson family were experts at keeping up with Charles Manson's warped wishes - Squeaky Fromme could make a master class on how to carry on the Manson Family tradition by attempting to assassinate President Gerald Ford. North Korea has the market cornered on idol worship, as does Cuba, Libya, Zimbabwe, Iran, and many other dictatorships. (Unfortunately, Saddam Hussein is no longer available for comment.)
The press did wall-to-wall coverage of MJ's funeral, and I found it a disgusting display of excess. Even though MJ was the biggest record seller of all time, there are bigger - much bigger - fish to fry than to have a Hollywood-style funeral. If the press pursued other problems in our country and the world as fervently or more so than they did MJ's funeral, can you imagine the real, tangible change that could happen? If Lindsay Lohan breaks a nail, or Britney Spears forgets her underwear again, or we get the sad backstory of an American Idol contestant, or a rapper gets shot, or some kind of kitschy propaganda that we're supposed to practice but the celebrities do not it's immediate news. It's infotainment. The economy, wars, and other things gets shoved aside - which is really too bad.
That's it in a nutshell: the press raises lowlifes, douchebags, murderers, guerillas, floozies, corrupt, and the just plain evil to superhero status. It's a disgusting and disturbing trend done for one thing and one thing only: ratings. Snatch away the above low-hanging fruit and ban access to society's idiots, and the press is left to twist in the wind until another trendy story comes along.
Ironically, the people who deserve to be idolized don't want it. Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, Richard Phllips, the Armed Forces, whistleblowers, nurses, EMT's, cops, firefighters, and many others sacrifice fame and glory because they don't want to be seen as spotlight hoggers. They just do their jobs, and they get their due applause when it's warranted, then go home. And they're modest - they don't cock their eyes and faces into some kind of Botox-laden pout and shift their bodies into model poses so the cameraman doesn't see the stains in their shirts or the runs in their nylons.
In our non-celebrity lives, we have our own, far more benign version of idolatry, which if we don't temper with reality we become obsessesive, infatuated, and then zealous, sometimes ending in "if I can't have you, no one else will." Love crushes are those harmless times of worship where we take our unrequited love and elevate them to a god-like status. More often than not, the object of your infatuation knows your designs and is flattered, but often it ends with a little bit of disappointment. When the crush gets blown into bigger-than-life status - just like Michael Jackson - it can be devastating to learn that the crush is not a nice person at all, and is likely using your infatuation as a springboard to someone else, or just for their own shallow entertainment. It shows more insecurity and manipulation than anything else.
Whoever you make your hero, beware the cult of personality. There are no perfect idols in the world; just a lot of false ones. Barry Gibb wasn't kidding when he talked about his baby brother Andy's "first fame," which brought him riches and Victoria Principal to his front door. What destroyed Andy Gibb? Drugs and a heart attack from myocarditis - all because he wanted everyone to love him.
7/04/2009
Good food vs. social Puritanism
I've never been to the South Street Diner - at any hour - but as far as I know, it's open 24 hours a day.
It may be no longer - either in hours or existence - if the city of Boston decides to close it down after 2am.
Why? Well, the bars close at 2am, and those sober enough to walk down and get a greasy repast to absorb their booze are "too noisy," according to some wealthy residents who live two doors down from the diner.
I will side with those residents on that case because I've seen my share of obnoxious drunks in my time - ones who can't assemble a single coherent sentence thanks to liquor tongue and engage in numerous Dutch courage fights to assert their temporary bravado, and wonder why they're in handcuffs at the end of the night.
Where I will not side with these yuppies is the sheer amount of arrogance and entitlement they think they possess - that it will take only two people to rid themselves of what they think is a "nuisance." Maybe they shouldn't have bought their ultra-expensive apartments if they knew they'd be next to a diner that does an excellent business. Since downtown apartments are very hard to come by, the cachet of having one puts you in an enviable position. It doesn't give you the right or power to control the activities of everything and everyone else around you (see: The North End Italian festivals, the South End, Central Square, etc.).
If the diner were much more upscale (or trendy, as in "slow food" or "organic") and it were open 24 hours a day, there would be no problem. In fact, the people would be in the restaurant feasting on exclusive foods and expensive beverages that the ordinary person at South St Diner could never afford, regardless of the degree of obnoxiousness and intoxication. The place would be celebrated by upscale foodies across the area, yet a minimum wage worker couldn't even afford the appetizer or even the side dish.
So it goes with all food - the cheaper the food item, the more disdain it generates from those who think they know better. Control food, and you control the masses - or even better, "If I can't have it, neither will you." Only a selfish, myopic, sociopathic asshole possesses those beliefs - and I can bet that they were denied those treats when they were younger. The movement to tax sodas, foods and the like is not to reduce obesity or improve health, but an effort by the insecure to hustle those who are not like Abercrombie & Fitch models out of society - Stepford people writ large. (You notice there isn't as big a movement for anorexia and binge-purging? God forbid we should tell young girls who constantly starve themselves to less than 70 pounds that it's equally dangerous?)
I'm hoping the South St Diner situation works out in the diner's favor. Otherwise, the blame for putting people out of business won't lie with economics - it will lie with people who are more scared for their property values than for making a living.
UPDATE 7/8 - The diner stays open 24/7 - because the complainants never bother to show up.
It may be no longer - either in hours or existence - if the city of Boston decides to close it down after 2am.
Why? Well, the bars close at 2am, and those sober enough to walk down and get a greasy repast to absorb their booze are "too noisy," according to some wealthy residents who live two doors down from the diner.
I will side with those residents on that case because I've seen my share of obnoxious drunks in my time - ones who can't assemble a single coherent sentence thanks to liquor tongue and engage in numerous Dutch courage fights to assert their temporary bravado, and wonder why they're in handcuffs at the end of the night.
Where I will not side with these yuppies is the sheer amount of arrogance and entitlement they think they possess - that it will take only two people to rid themselves of what they think is a "nuisance." Maybe they shouldn't have bought their ultra-expensive apartments if they knew they'd be next to a diner that does an excellent business. Since downtown apartments are very hard to come by, the cachet of having one puts you in an enviable position. It doesn't give you the right or power to control the activities of everything and everyone else around you (see: The North End Italian festivals, the South End, Central Square, etc.).
If the diner were much more upscale (or trendy, as in "slow food" or "organic") and it were open 24 hours a day, there would be no problem. In fact, the people would be in the restaurant feasting on exclusive foods and expensive beverages that the ordinary person at South St Diner could never afford, regardless of the degree of obnoxiousness and intoxication. The place would be celebrated by upscale foodies across the area, yet a minimum wage worker couldn't even afford the appetizer or even the side dish.
So it goes with all food - the cheaper the food item, the more disdain it generates from those who think they know better. Control food, and you control the masses - or even better, "If I can't have it, neither will you." Only a selfish, myopic, sociopathic asshole possesses those beliefs - and I can bet that they were denied those treats when they were younger. The movement to tax sodas, foods and the like is not to reduce obesity or improve health, but an effort by the insecure to hustle those who are not like Abercrombie & Fitch models out of society - Stepford people writ large. (You notice there isn't as big a movement for anorexia and binge-purging? God forbid we should tell young girls who constantly starve themselves to less than 70 pounds that it's equally dangerous?)
I'm hoping the South St Diner situation works out in the diner's favor. Otherwise, the blame for putting people out of business won't lie with economics - it will lie with people who are more scared for their property values than for making a living.
UPDATE 7/8 - The diner stays open 24/7 - because the complainants never bother to show up.
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