In Praise of Politics-Free Zones

I was one of the organizers for my recent 55^th high school reunion in New Jersey. Just 40% of our class went on to college back then. In addition to college prep, the school provided vocational and skill-oriented tracks such as auto mechanics, shop, industrial design, beauty culture, secretarial and home economics. The committee members knew that the political leanings of our class range from far right to far left, even just among the six of us. We agreed to declare the event a “Politics-Free Zone.” We posted notices and made an announcement at the beginning of the Saturday night dinner.

I’ve spent much of the past two years alternating between semi-depression and extreme stress. The last thing I wanted to do at my high school reunion was get into arguments about politics. My best friend from grade school (also on the committee) is one of those who hold views one hundred eighty degrees opposite from mine. We’ve managed to stay civil on our Facebook posts and not let these differences affect our friendship—an increasingly rare accomplishment. The fact that we see each other only every few years probably helps, but still…

So it was with some trepidation and a higher than normal stress level that I reached this milestone event after a four hour drive that should have taken two and a half hours. The committee had a brief confab about whether we needed to publicly state no politics, since that was posted on two of the information boards in the room. We decided to do so, but low key, emphasizing that we’re all adults.

Now that the weekend is in my rear-view, I’m happy to report that there was no shouting, no physical violence and no sniping as far as we could tell. Everyone seemed to have an enjoyable time. We shared stories of various trips from one end of the globe to another. Some folks focused on their grandchildren, with photos to support their pride-worthy accomplishments.

Two recent widows who were there had been reluctant to come. I told each of them that she wouldn’t be the only one having had a recent loss. (We had a recent widower, too.) They were able to share their struggles over what to do after so many years with one spouse, and how they were finally emerging from the fog of grief. They were glad they decided to make the trip. The class had invited a handful of our teachers who were still around to be our guests. The event offered the chance for everyone to meet on more level ground at this point in our lives.

I arrived home after a stress-free two and a half hour drive, feeling as though I’d had a mini-vacation. As I thought about the weekend, I realized that a big part of my upbeat mindset was that I hadn’t turned on a TV for three days. I had no conversations about politics or the upcoming election. There were plenty of other things to discuss. Who was still playing in a band or had recently taken up an instrument again. Who had retired but was brought back by her company as a consultant, making more than when she was on staff and with dental benefits, too. Who recently became a vegetarian or is trying that Paleo diet.

There was a lot of talk about joint replacement surgeries. My husband (who had his second knee done three days after the reunion) found someone to chat with through most of Saturday dinner—the husband of one of my classmates. I think they discussed the economy and world trade—perilously close to politics in my opinion, but apparently not in theirs. Everyone agreed that the “no politics” rule made it safer to approach old friends to ask where life had taken them.

As you enter into what is often the most stressful season of the year, I urge you to declare your holiday "politics free". You can make a lovely little sign with holly and berries on it. And if Uncle Biff insists on getting into it with Aunt Edna, tell them politely to take it outside. You’ll thank me by the time you’re doing the dishes.

Copyright 2018 Business Theatre Unlimited

Confusing Terms Explained

You’ve probably noticed that Republicans and Democrats are constantly disagreeing on items in the news and on what might or might not be a legal issue. Sometimes it seems as though they don’t even speak the same language.

In a way, this is actually the case. Many times, the conflict occurs because of subtleties of meaning. There are a lot of confusing terms being kicked around. One side hears A when the other side thinks it actually said B. Today I’m explaining the nuances of some terms we frequently hear.

Let’s begin with a trio of confusing ones: matter, inquiry and investigation. Apparently, the FBI prefers to refer to an activity as a matter when they’ve just decided to look into something potentially fishy. They don’t want to say they’re conducting an investigation if they might have to back peddle. Clinton defenders claim that’s why Loretta Lynch told James Comey to refer to the emails fiasco as a matter.

Once there’s a whiff of smoke, agents will likely launch an inquiry to look for the fire. An inquiry is a gathering of more extensive information to decide who should be grilled like a rib-eye on your Weber. Most inquiries lead to a full-fledged investigation. In my opinion, if someone comes to your door to ask a few questions, it’s an inquiry. If they bring you down to their office and suggest you might want to have an attorney with you, we’re talking investigation.

Another way of putting this trio in perspective is that agents look into a matter, conduct an inquiry and pursue an investigation. The IRS will look into your tax return as a matter of course, conduct an audit if they find serious irregularities and pursue legal action against you if they think the money they recover will earn them a promotion.

This means that the investigation into Russia’s involvement in the recent presidential election and attempts to influence the outcome is serious business. Earlier inquiries into alleged hacks of Hillary Clinton’s private server—not so much.

Which brings us to another group that’s in the news a lot: allegedly, assumedly, supposedly and ostensibly. “When should I use which one?” you may be wondering.

Allegedly means something has been claimed by someone, usually without proof. It’s used mostly for legal cover. When in doubt, allege something happened or is true, as in “Donald Trump’s allegedly small hands.” (Unless you’ve actually measured them…)

Assumedly is what you believe to be true, based on available information. “Assumedly, Donald Trump should cut down on that chocolate cake.” Supposedly is what someone else claims to be true. “Supposedly, Melania feeds Donald too many Slovenian desserts.” These two are matters of opinion, not facts.

Ostensibly means it was demonstrated through someone’s actions or words. They want you to think something is true, but that’s often a cover for a different reality. “Trump refuses to release his tax returns, ostensibly because he’s being audited by the IRS.” Or “Ostensibly, Melania remained in Manhattan through June so that her son could finish his school term there.”

Our final grouping is wiggle, waffle, vacillate and clarify. These all have to do with how someone explains his changes in position on an issue. Or tries to.

Wiggling is done rapidly, with minimal sense of direction. A person wiggles when he just doesn’t want to get pinned down. Listen to any of Sean Spicer’s press conferences for some excellent examples of wiggling.

Waffling, on the other hand, is done more slowly than wiggling, and usually eventually results in a single switch in someone’s opinion, though it can take awhile to get there. Mitch McConnell waffled on calling for a vote on the Senate’s health care bill before the Fourth of July recess. He definitely would, he probably would and then he didn’t.

Vacillating is a back and forth motion, first to the left, then to the right, on a fairly regular tempo, like Trump’s position on certain aspects of health care insurance. It won’t be heartless. But even if the Senate version is as mean as the House one, pass it anyway. It won’t be repealed without immediately replacing it. But if they can’t pass a replacement, just repeal it. Someone who is vacillating my never reach a final decision on the issue at hand.

Clarify is an archaic term that means to carefully explain what you mean so there is absolutely no confusion about your position. No one in politics does that anymore so you might as well purge clarification from your lexicon.

I hope you’ve found these explanations edifying and elucidating. As you can see, it’s often difficult to be certain which term to use Just pick your favorite. No one else seems to care anymore anyway.

Public Bathroom Safety Tips

President Trump rescinded Obama’s order allowing transgender students to use the bathroom that matches their gender identity. SCOTUS refused to hear a case challenging the repeal. This pretty much guarantees that the only males using a ladies room will be peeping Toms or worse. Years ago I had such an encounter with a peeper in a Manhattan office building, so I put together these safety tips for women who are seated in a stall when they realize they’re being watched.

1.     Slam your knees together. The slapping sound your thighs will make should frighten the peeper off. Even if not, this will limit his view severely.

2.     Be thankful you wore clean underwear with no holes. Your mother would be proud of you.

3.     Stay calm. Getting excited will only make you have to use the john that much longer. See items 4 and 5 for ways to calm yourself.

4.     Consider legitimate reasons the peeper may have for being there, such as:

·      He’s a freelance photographer working on a spread

·      He’s doing market research for a toilet paper company

·      He’s an industrial engineer trying to cost justify automatic toilet paper dispensers

·      He’s an investigator hired by the insurance company to test the building’s security

5.     Whistle, sing or hum a favorite tune, but avoid such provocative songs as:

·      For Your Eyes Only

·      Hey, Look Me Over

·      Jeepers, Creepers, Where’d You Get Those Peepers?

·      Sitting in La La, Waiting for My Ya Ya

6.     Mutter phrases of discouragement such as, “I hope my doctor was wrong about the herpes…” Or, “Gawd, I ruin more pantyhose on my rough knuckles now that I’m taking karate lessons!”

7.     Carry on a casual, one-way conversation with his feet in the next booth. If he responds, keep him talking. It will give you more time to get your pants up. When you’re ready to leave, say, “Well, it’s been nice chatting” even if he hasn’t answered. If he thinks you’re daft enough, he’ll lose interest.

8.     Do not take time to flush. It puts you in the vulnerable position of having your back to the door. Besides, half the time people don’t bother to flush anyway.

9.     Do take time to wash your hands. If you don’t, the peeper could paint you as a loose woman with vile habits. And your mother would die if she found out.

10. Use a different ladies room the next time you have to go.

Copyright 2017 Elaine M. Decker

The High Road Is Not Easy

My Facebook friends have been posting some extremely funny comments about the upcoming Presidential election. I’ve sworn off sharing my own opinions on this on Facebook. Too many friends of a different political persuasion have added snarky remarks to my posts.

I recently made the following comment on a political cartoon on someone else’s page.

Oh snap. Glad I had deadlines the last few days and have been taking a break from CNN. Trying to stay on the high road is like having to pee something fierce, but there’s no bathroom nearby, and you’re forced to walk around with your knees pressed tightly together.

After I read what I wrote, I thought: There is definitely a blog post in this. Here then are some other things that staying on the high road is akin to.

It’s like going to confession as a teenager and telling the priest that your sin was that you lied to your parents. Meanwhile, you know you should really confess to what you and Buzzy were doing in the back seat of his car last weekend. But you also know that if you share that, there will be hell to pay. So the guilt is killing you.

Taking the high road is like going to a wine tasting when you’re the designated driver. You can have just a tiny sip of a few of the offerings. Meanwhile your friends are flying high on the Barolo, the Brunello and the Prosecco. You’re following the waiters around the room, eating as many canapés as you can grab off their trays, but you’re still bitter and resentful. Everyone else is having a great time and you… well, you’re committed to taking the dry road.

It’s like finding the quintessential pastry café in Vienna. Your tongue is literally hanging out as your mouth waters over the elegant sweets. Your traveling companions have plates full of the little morsels. You order just herbal tea, because you’ve promised your GP you will not put on one additional ounce during this trip. You’ll keep to 1100 calories a day, pushing toward your goal of losing another ten pounds.

Women who work in Manhattan will appreciate this high-road metaphor. You’re forced to wear five-inch heels every day so you look professional and have more height. What you long for is ballet flats. They’re so much more comfortable. But no; flats are not an option, because you’ve chosen a career on the high-heel road.

The cover story of a recent issue of Time magazine brought to my attention a reason why taking the high road is especially challenging. Those who treasure a well-turned phrase have dozens of zingers careening around in their brain, but on their restricted path, they can’t use any of them. I was particularly inspired by some of late-night-TV comedian Samantha Bee’s bon mots. (She has her own TBS show, Full Frontal.) Because I’m on that high road, I can’t tell you who her target was. You’ll just have to guess.

Remember: I’m not saying these things. “People” are saying them. OK. Not “people;” Samantha Bee. Here are three of her more imaginative aphorisms: “tangerine-tinted trash-can fire,” “screaming carrot demon” and “America’s burst appendix.”

Speaking of bursting, my brain is about to explode. It’s so full of colorful descriptions I’d love to hurl at someone who shall remain nameless. It’s a cruel world. And it’s even crueler up here on that high road.