I’m sure you read the San Francisco Chronicle daily. There’s no better way to read about Hollywood starlets’ FOVIP (frequency of vomiting in public) or the DOASFYMTA (Divorces of Aging Stars for Younger Model-Type Actors) or the daily murder wrap from Oakland or a few blocks of San Francisco.

But last week the Chronicle ran freelancer Rob Baedeker’s entertaining Money Tale, How much money do you make? It was a fun read, and in it, Baedeker teased the reader along by dangling the sweet secret of how much money such a talented freelance writer makes in a city like San Francisco. He discloses his salary only after making the point that there are tons of people out there who not only consider frank talk about income to be private, but will nevertheless share that information with anyone at all, as long as they ask.

The truth is, I read the piece when it was first published and I’m too lazy to go back and re-read it. I could therefore be mistaken when I report now that I don’t believe it was based on, or even referred to any published research on sharing personal income information. Rather, as I recall, it was based on Baedeker’s personal research walking around in the streets of San Francisco, asking people he did not know to tell him basically two things (is salary information private? would you tell me anyway?). And again, his finding was that for the most part, people fall into the sweet spot of the contradiction between these two questions. It’s an implicit comment on generational change, so I don’t think I would have been too surprised to see the NYT carry the same article or another just exactly like it.

But instead, they published Alex Williams’s Not So Personal Finance. It does some of the same tricks, hovering over the “do people consider this to be private information?” question but turning to a 2007 study in Money magazine by Jeanne Fleming and Leonard Schwarz, as well as good quotes from Bill Coleman, the chief compensation officer of Salary.com. But it doesn’t tell us what the writer earns at the New York Times, and it doesn’t take a very human angle on the admittedly awkward silences that fall when friends with wide chasms between their various incomes come to the precipice in otherwise-pleasant conversations.

Chalk one (exactly one) up for the Chronicle.

 

 

first of all, i’m surprised that clinton’s not campaigning in Vermont more seriously. i didn’t forget about VT, but i hadn’t been following any polling, and i assumed she would have a chance there. the iraq war vote thing, if that’s what’s bugging people there, was a problem for me at the time that she cast it until i heard her explanation at that time, which to my buddingly neoconservative views (sort of kidding…) made sense (at some point we have to stand behind the president and at least pretend to agree, so that his efforts will carry some weight…. that, to my recollection, was the gist of it, and i guess i bought into that too, because that was before we bombed iraq, and there was still the distant, faint glimmer of a hope that the UN resolutions and the support of countries like, i dunno, any of them, might have played a role in diffusing the situation. and the only reason anyone would want to diffuse the situation would be if they realized that the US was really gonna do it this time, and the only reason they’d think that would be if even the fairly liberal wing of the democratic party thought about signing on….. but then all this other stuff happened and now we look back at that vote and blame - i think - the wrong people. but the fact that clinton has failed to articulate that effectively enough, and failed to keep the focus of her campaign on the need to undo the damage of the bush administration will probably cost her the nomination, and my feelings about that are similar to the feelings of disappointment that i have around john edwards’ failure to convince even ME that he was serious about ending poverty in the US, and my continued frustration with the imbecilic john kerry at somehow failing to allow his actual war record to stand as a suitable defense against his made-up war record. the sad fact is that there’s only one howard dean, and even if he lacked some of the stature or experience or panache or even clarity around issues that we’re looking for today, he had something that i can only continue to describe as “electability,” and i have the serious concern that we will look back on this election from the vantage point of having lost in November and realize that by nominating a historical first — either a woman or a black man — we seriously eroded our ability to maintain focus on the primary issue, which should be rescuing the country from some weird faith-based totalitarianism.)
leave it to me to bury the lead. somewhere in that rant of a parenthetical thought lies evidence of what i’m calling — and i’ve coined this term, so far as i can tell — my “obivalence”. when obama announced on MTP more than a year ago that he was beginning to consider the possibility of thinking of planning to consider running for president, i was very excited about it. he seemed like a godsend, and i looked forward to a substantive candidate emerging…. since then, i have become increasingly unimpressed with him. he seems almost like a Democratic version of W — the kind of guy who can be portrayed as plainly and incorrectly by the far right as the far left portrays W (to call bush reactionary, a despot, a fascist — these may have some basis in reality. but to insist that he’s truly a buffoon is to inadvertently give him greater power, because while he might be a bit bumbling, he’s not stupid, and we have clearly been underestimating him for a long time, despite a TON of evidence that he’s as calculating as anyone could be, but i digress again). point is, W is a flat character, with no real depth, and that enables us to map onto him whatever we like (dems map bad things, rich fat people map good things, etc.). that’s where obama is, too. the lefty optimist in me sees jfk, rfk, carter, john lennon, etc etc in obama, because why not? he won’t say anything to dispel those long shadows, because they benefit him tremendously. but the right can overlay a similarly one-sided image-set on him — naif, pop star, teen idol, pin-up politician, etc etc. And since his strengths are the same as his weaknesses (just like W), there’s an “around and around we go” quality to this kind of dialogue, and i do not relish the idea of four or eight years of it.
that said, i’m not thrilled with clinton, and i miss edwards (or rather, my sense of what edwards could have been — in my wildest dreams, he would have actually SET UP his campaign headquarters in the upper ninth ward, where he announced his run. he would have bought a few houses to convert to HQ, he would have hired local new orleans kids to help set up shop around iowa and new hampshire, he would have held all of his policy announcements on the same front lawn down there, and would have conducted essentially a front-porch campaign. when he won — and he definitely would have won if he’d done this — he could have made new orleans his crawford, and allowed the upper ninth ward to become an international center of diplomacy, lobbying and power, generally, at least for a few weeks each summer or fall. that would have been a campaign of change and whatever, and i would have been very proud to have that kind of president, giving unprecedented access to power directly to the most disenfranchised population in this country. but oh well. at least he wasn’t derailed by something as stoopid as a directional microphone. that still hurts.)
 
i don’t like that supporters of obama have been given enough reason to detest clinton, which is my way of saying that obama supporters can’t be entirely blamed for being, sometimes, quite mean about their preference. i’m not sure this race was every truly hers to lose, but she has lost entirely the original message, which was methodical one, arguing against current administration policies. eyes on the prize was all she needed, in a way. 
 
but i can’t get fully behind obama. i’m sure he’s a great guy, and i do wish i knew him personally. but those aren’t reasons to vote for someone. this is the longest definition ever, but it is OBIVALENCE. 

If an actor dies from a drug overdose on the same day that you’re planning to trot the old guy out to say that drugs are dangerous for kids, don’t worry about looking opportunistic. It’s true that it doesn’t look good for you because of the timing. You get decorum points for giving the awkwardness some consideration. But since nobody cares what your guy says anymore, and since nobody’s listening, you may as well go ahead with the scheduled event. Go on. Prescription drugs are bad. You might even consider adding a timely comment into the remarks. Something like, “As the untimely death of actor so-and-so tragically demonstrates, …” etc etc. If you do that, opportunistic or not, people might at least notice that you did something that day.

As we know, it takes all kinds. The reason that’s a cliche is because it’s true. And in my limited-but-ever-growing experience as a human, I’m beginning to see that certain things — other cliches, mostly — that I had been aware of as cliche, but not aware of as truisms (we’ll try to split the difference, yes?) are, in fact, real. And when I say “real,” I mean “true,” to which you may add “truism” or “beautiful,” or whatever. You may, in addition, add “untrue,” “false,” “dishonest,” or “deceitful.” (Later on, after you’ve finished reading this, you may also want to add “insecure,” “cloying,” “overreaching,” “annoying” or “bullshit.”) The cliche I’m sort of surprised to be noticing as “real” is one that I have, for a long time, made light of, the way one might make fun of Batman for not really being able to fly. It’s always been fun to take pot-shots at beautiful women who can’t seem to escape the allure of homely old men. It’s funny because it’s the most physically apparent expression of dissonance you can imagine. I mean this, because the more layers you peel off of something, oftentimes, the easier it is to explain it, to get to the root of it. But in a very literal sense, if you’ve got a case where a 24-year-old woman of apparent beauty finds herself in, um, volved with some old guy, the peeling off of layers doesn’t so much alleviate as horribly fail to account for the dissonance with which you began. I should clarify that, in raising the cliche of the young woman and the old man, I am not talking about the “trophy wife” thing. That’s just a bore. Old man needs companionship, young woman needs money, etc. It’s transactional, it represents opportunity taken. In a way, the Trophy Wife Scenario represents the pinnacle of Capitalist society’s achievements. We have found a way to conquer mortality through love and money. In the Trophy Wife Scenario, there’s no need for Death, except as a punctuation mark that fairly well validates the entire exercise. “Congratulations, Old Man, you crossed the finish line! Well done, geezer.” See? A bore. I’m so much more interested now in the not-quite-at-Death’s-door man, say in his late 50’s, and the late-20’s beauty he can somehow attract. Here’s where it gets interesting: Whereas the old man of the Trophy Wife Scenario looks at himself and says, “I am a loose-fitting, saggy, pitiful Old Man, but I still have the desires of a younger man,” this 50-something man — the one I’m thinking of, at least — is completely delusional.He looks at himself and says, “I am a hip cat. I am a young man. I am not old. I will not get old. I will stay young.”And he builds Hearst Castle using the means at his disposal. Instead of a private zoo, a leather jacket. Instead of a fleet of safari vehicles, one sports car (or hybrid, or German luxury car, or fill in the goddam blank). He goes out to places where he would never be invited - places for people twenty or thirty years younger. He tries not to seem old. And it seems to be working. Especially when he sees, from across the room, the beautiful woman, not quite a girl, not quite able to mask her confusion at his wolf-like stare combined with his narrow, osteoporetic shoulders under a shiny black leather jacket. And maybe a goatee. Yes. A goatee. Why a goatee? <a href=”http://therestofus.wordpress.com/2007/07/29/the-goatee/”>Here’s why</a>. Let’s cut to the chase, avoiding a boring retelling of the completely inane conversation that must precede their inevitable hook-up. Actually, let’s at least pay tribute to the awkwardness of their need to appear willing to address the necessity of at least basic personal-information-exchange without hitting any detail that would address age or position in society. (i.e., “I got my first job the same year you were conceived, and I am older than your parents,” or “I just graduated college, so I guess that makes me the same age as your daughter.”) Cutting to the chase, then, the part that I want to dwell on is the part, referenced by the title of this post. We know there are insecure horny old men. Whooptishit. That’s not news, or interesting.But young beautiful women with father issues! That’s the cliche I’ve always poked at and never given the real, thoughtful attention it absolutely deserves. Because even while the man with sloping shoulders and a drool in his eye seems worldly in a sad, lonely, pathetic way, and might have the value-add of being the same age as your daddy (i.e. Which of them is your daddy??), your daddy, one hopes, is not an arrested adolescent with a not-so-new Porsche. But at least Mr. Old and Nasty brings you the derision of your peers. That way, you can continue to tell yourself (correctly, by the way) that nobody understands the real you. Nobody, that is, except daddy Porsche. So that’s what it takes. I always wondered what it took. 

The Goatee is the timeless affect of young men as they develop the ability to grow facial hair in a more regimented way than unexplained shadows and blotches on cheeks and upper lips. The Goatee is always in style for the adolescent, but grows and fades in popularity among slightly older men along with fashions like skinniness and the mullet. As a fashion, it has been associated with blue collar workers, country music, German intellectuals and professional athletes. In the instance of faux academics, it has achieved placement on the gaunt and striving face of no less an exemplar than Eric Alterman. And it is through Eric Alterman that The Goatee is now best examined. The lupine, but otherwise meaningless, accoutrement there bespeaks insecurity and self-loathing. Significantly, in Alterman’s case, the self-loathing is oftentimes not as intense as the just-plain-loathing that he engenders. But that’s really for another day. The Goatee is a pretense. A lie that Alterman tells himself and his probably-captive audience. The lie: “I am cool. You like me. You think I’m mature and enlightened.” What makes it a lie is that nobody — not Alterman, not the people he’s looking at, not even God — believes it to be true.

See? (thanks to marct)

More here.

In fact, as hockey season winds down, it’s poised to step into the void created by hockey’s TV absence. I’m expecting an ESPN-2 morning-after wrap-up of concerts around the country. Especially now that summer festival season is getting ready to kick off. (”Billionaire Aspen, Colo. Smack-Down In The Tent! Ted Turner says he’s only sorry he left Levin enough room to curl up and cry in the corner…”).

David Halberstam reported from courtside and from Vietnam, and he wrote long books that will stand for decades or more as a testament to whatever. When he needed them the most, words did not fail him. Not, at least, according to the story told by New York Times denizens, recounted by Timothy Crouse in 1972 and then recounted again by Calvin Trillin in 1993. When obnoxious, pre-rotund Johnny Apple made some stupid comment to the recently-returned-from-war Halberstam, he found poetry in three great words, which we should all use whenever the mood strikes us, as a glorious homage to a great man. Less than a half-year after Apple’s death, today’s ludicrous news brings the astoundingly stupid death of David Halberstam, in a car accident of all goddam things, in Menlo Park of all goddam places.
Somewhere, wherever these types of people end up going after this part, there’s a fat dead Johnny Apple saying something stupid to a new arrival, and the only comfort I can take right now is that I know what that new arrival is going to say to him.

I don’t know if Edwards has a real shot, but he does look like central casting’s a-list POTUS, at least for a movie that only features the president as a secondary character. Maybe a romantic comedy about the president’s daughter, or a romantic comedy about the president’s aging mother (a possible star vehicle for one of our talented aging American actresses? Goldie? She’d be perfect. For god’s sake, though, not Diane Keaton. Please. Enough with Diane Keaton.)

Thoughts?

Because you’ve always wondered how Intel could make it look like people could dance.