Don’t Keep "Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell"


I remember that during the very early days of the Clinton Administration, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was announced. This allowed gays to serve in the military as long as they hid the fact that they were gay. Immediately, I thought this was one of the most stupid things I had ever heard.

The military wants people, presumably of integrity and character, to defend the country, but they wanted some of these people to essentially lie – TO THEM, no less – about who they are? At least the outright ban on gays in the military was honest; wrongheaded, but honest.

It recently came to me what I think is an apt analogy. It is like Negroes – I use the word specifically for the historic context – who could and did pass as white. They got all the benefits of the society that being white meant. At the same time, they always worried, “What if the secret gets out?” They had to make sure to stay away from those darker-skinned cousins who might ruin the ruse, for they feared the consequences of being revealed. It was not just because of their race but because they knew that deceivers receive even harsher punishment.

Likewise, gays in the military who make sure they change the pronouns of their loved ones back home are worried out being found out lest they be forced from their chosen profession. And I can imagine that colleagues being lied to about who their comrades-in-arms are might find that problematic as well.

I heard Tim Kaine, chair of the Democratic National Committee, on one of the talk shows last weekend saying that the Obama administration will be addressing this issue in a positive manner after consulting with the military. I certainly hope this is the case, and soon.

There is a great cartoon here that brings it home on this Memorial Day weekend.

ROG

ROG

Covering Bobby Z

Musing about the May birthdays of musicians, particularly musicians whose work I own, I noticed that any number of them covered Bob Dylan songs. Not a surprise there; Dylan’s put out over 40 albums.

What WAS a little surprising was that I couldn’t find the May birthday songs I own on YouTube; I’ve just started to expect it.

I first looked for the pair of songs from Pete Seeger’s We Shall Overcome album, a live 1963 recording. Pete did A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall and Who Killed Davey Moore; nope. Instead, here’s Paths of Victory

Then I sought out Poor Immigrant by Judy Collins from my beloved Who Knows Where The Time Goes album; no such luck. Here’s Judy singing Like a Rolling Stone

Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons perform the amazingly goofy Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right, which simply must be heard to be believed. Not there. I foiund, though, the Jersey Boys doing Queen Jane Approximately

I DID discover live versions of a couple songs: Stevie Wonder performing Blowin’ the Wind

Not found on the Billy Joel YouTube channel, but otherwise available is his version of To Make You Feel My Love

Finally, some Dylan doing Dylan; I couldn’t find Seeger doing Davey Moore, but here’s a version by Bob himself.

Happy birthday, Bob.
ROG

ROG

LYING Question

I ALMOST started watching this TV show called Lie To Me this season; if I didn’t have so much recorded but unwatched, I might have. Since it’s been renewed, i still may. The premise is that the “world’s leading deception expert who studies facial expressions and involuntary body language to discover not only if someone is lying, but why.”

Some people are just lousy liars and even a layperson can tell. But think of the Bernie Madoffs or other seemingly responsible people; they lied through their teeth daily but almost no one caught on until it was too late.

The singular thing I learned from Ronald Reagan was “trust but verify”.

I used to be lied to in relationships, which makes finding someone who is pretty much incapable of telling a lie a pretty sweet deal.

So how do you think your lie-detector radar is?
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Why people lie — and how to tell if they are
How To Tell if Your Spouse is Lying



Your Slogan Should Be


Roger. Uncommonly Made, Uncommonly Good.


ROG

ROG

No Forwarding Address

Sometime last year, we started getting mail for a Hrishikesh Samant at our home. We have been at this address for nine years and the people who lived here before were not so named either. I thought it would be an easy matter to Google the name and perhaps trying to contact him. No such luck; there seems to be at least a geology and/or zoology professor in Mumbai, India and a GIS expert in the US. Here’s a video of one of them. Or maybe it’s all the same guy. But it doesn’t explain while mail, including utility bills, cable bills, and items of the sort started arriving at our door in that name.

So I decided that perhaps I should contact the authorities to see if someone was trying to perpetrate some fraud in Mr. Samant’s seemingly good name(s). I contacted the postal authorities. They told me to just return to sender. After three or four months, the mailings have seemed to stop.

Now we are getting mail for Gwen Powell. It’s all what we would consider junk mail. Moreover, we at least have a theory about how we came to get “Gwen’s mail”. My wife’s given surname, her “maiden name” if you will, is Powell. A C and a G have similar structures; the line of the G plus ar could be construed as a w, I suppose. In cursive, o and e both have loops. I need to contact these vendors to get “Gwen” off their mailing list.
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There was a story this week in the local paper about an a 11-year-old boy who pedaled his bicycle into the path of a car and later died. Very sad story made worse by the fact that he waited 25 minutes for an ambulance to arrive. Someone on Twitter commented that the fact that the driver of the car wasn’t ticketed was tantamount to getting away with “murder”, and used that specific word.

Now few people complain more about how irresponsible car drivers are vis a vis bicyclists than I do. I got a broken rib about 50 weeks ago from trying to avoid a car running through a traffic light. But the facts in the case – the boy’s bike hit the passenger-side door – suggests that the boy either didn’t see the car, had his brakes fail or some other circumstance. In any case, the driver, who will undoubtedly be traumatized for a long time, doesn;’t need apparently unfounded claims of murder bandied about.

ROG

ROG

Why I Blog

Sometimes, when I get the blogging melancholy – you know, nobody comments, et al. – I get some positive feedback. All of these e-mails came between April 17 and 22.

One was a message from a new salon that noted my mention in a blog post.

Another was a message from a former high school history teacher of mine who became a county executive and now heads a statewide nonprofit. I’m not clear which assessment he’s referring to, but it’s accurate: “Many thanks for your assessment of me as one of your teachers. Being included with Helen Foley is good company, indeed. Glad to see that you haven’t lost your interest in world affairs. At what library in Albany do you work, or have I misread the information on your blog?” Helen Foley, BTW, was my public speaking teacher, and, not incidentally Rod Serling’s beloved teacher in junior and senior high school.

A third was someone who “met Raoul Vezina in 1983 in a comic store in Albany NY. I have #1-4 signed Smilin Ed comics and a 1983 Fantacon poster signed by Raoul as well. He was a gentle person and very talented. I remember you too. You worked at the comic store…am I correct? My boyfriend at the time…purchased comics at your store. You may remember him. I’m sure you don’t remember me. LOL! [He] and I are not together now. I found your e-mail address on the web when I was looking up Raoul Vezina on my computer. I found Raoul’s Smilin Ed comics when I was cleaning out a drawer. I’d completely forgotten about them. When I saw them, it brought back so many wonderful memories. I have Raoul’s obituary clipping from the Times Union. I don’t know why I saved all this stuff, but I did. As I looked at the comics and the clipping, I wondered if anyone would appreciate them after I’m gone. I decided that no one would, except another person who knew Raoul. My daughter will probably will consider it garbage, not aware that Raoul was a special person and a talented artist. So, saying that, I’d like to ask you if you’d like them. I will send them to you at no cost to you, if you’d like. Let me know.”
Yes, I do remember her boyfriend, but alas not her, but she was most kind.

Also Raoul-related is the first comment to this post.

Always nice to get the psychic, and occasionally, actual goodies.
ROG

ROG
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