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The Column That Never Was

The column that I was hired to write for a certain Queens weekly has been canceled before the first piece was even published. That piece, a critical look at the fall-out from Congressman Greg Meeks’ support for CAFTA, did not appear in this past Thursday’s issue, although an editorial lavishing praise on the Congressman for his championing of banks over people, was featured rather prominently. I called to find out what happened, and was told the next day that Rep. Meeks had called the newspaper to complain about the previous post that appeared on this blarg. That’s all, she wrote. The managing editor – who hired me – explained over and over that “integrity” is really important to the paper, and that I had really crossed a line by posting the Congressman’s voicemail message to me, without explaining that I had called him first. Of course, I explained that I […]

He Ain’t Never Caught a Rabbit.

I think I’m over the dog thing. My parents are away this weekend, at a family reunion that I am boycotting, so I volunteered to dog-sit Alfred. I drove by my folks’ place in the late afternoon to pay the neurotic pup a visit and then take him to my apartment. I took him for a quick run around the backyard in order in order to expend some of his pent up energy from being cooped up in the house alone for the previous ten hours, and then for a nice long walk around the neighborhood in order to answer the call of nature. Now, Alfred can be rather clever when it comes to sneaking food or prying open doors, but he can be a bit of a dummy when it comes to basic doggies duties. Still, it was a new one on me when I caught Alfie absent-mindedly peeing […]

Get Back In Line

Today is May Day, the international holiday of the working class, a celebration of our labor unions and our rich history of struggle. I marched, along with 40,000 comrades, past the United Nations, across 42nd street and back up 6th avenue to Central Park for nuclear abolition and an end to the war in Iraq. Back home, spinning a Kinks CD, I am inexplicably drawn to an anti-union song, “Get Back In Line.” Ray Davies, the lead singer and chief songwriter of the Kinks, is a curmudgeon. He’s also one of the greatest songwriters of the rock-n-roll era. He infuses his songs with a dry wit and clever character studies, as well as a supernatural sense of melody, that all his songs are likable, even when he’s bashing socialism or criticizing labor unions. Back in 1964, in the first great wave of the “British Invasion,” the Kinks scored a #1 […]

Shaun Needs a Friend

It’s become pretty obvious that I am in desperate need of a new friend; the kind whose friendship and loyalty are entirely dependent on my paying for dinner and providing a place to spend the night, the kind who’ll tear up my papers, scratch my furniture and get hair everywhere. Enough pulling dying cats out of the gutter, it’s time to adopt a pet. I’ve been thinking for awhile about getting a cat. They seemed like low maintenance. When I’m working, I can be out of the apartment for 12-14 hours a day, and, being an apartment, there’s no backyard here. But I just don’t understand cats. They bite and scratch when they’re playing. They’re finicky. Plus, I don’t have anyone in the neighborhood to take care of them when I leave town for school or work. Dogs, I know. I’ve had dogs for about as long as I’ve been […]

“…I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday…”

It’s my birthday. I’m 26. I’m feeling strangely okay about this. The server has almost fully recovered from last week’s attack. My e-mail is back up and running, so I’m once again receiving all those helpful e-mails about Rolex watches, bigger penises, larger cumloads and moms I’d like to fuck (all of which, coincidentally, can be found on my birthday present wish list). Actually, there are two new spams I’ve gotten that are pretty amusing. One is some sort of spray can that promises to make your license plate invisible to those traffic cameras that catch you running red lights. It’s the sort of product that causes one to marvel at the ingenuity of capitalism. The other is software that will help you vote as many times as you want for “American Idol.” I, for one, am encouraged by the youth of today’s zeal for participatory democracy. I’ll be at […]

To Insure Proper Service

Is it bad manners, bad breeding or consumer alienation in our service economy that makes your typical New York Times reader so fucking stupid? For the second time in recent memory, the Times’ Dining and Wine section has published an article on obvious tipping etiquette. The gist of the message? At the end of the day New York’s delivery rules are pretty basic: Watch your dog. Have your money ready. Tip well, and do it in cash. No fucking duh. Earlier in the year, the Times wrote about a couple of websites where waitstaff complain about bad patrons and reveal (gasp!) that customers who are rude and don’t tip will get a little extra spit in their meal. Have these uppity twits never heard the term “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you?” Is it only we socialists who think that working people deserve respect and decent pay? I’m a […]

Hear You Been To College?

I’ve been hiding a secret. I applied to grad school. When I graduated from Queens College, I was pretty sure that I was done with school. I felt like the higher up you go in higher education, the less actual education there is and the more image-conscious bullshit there is (Yeah, I’m looking at you, Ward Churchill). Besides you can only “study” the labor movement for so long before you become an armchair academic critic. It’s much more of an education to go to work for a union. Get in there and get your hands dirty. You’ll do some amazing work, but you won’t stay ideologically pure, and you’ll be better off for it. I’ve counseled lots of people to stay away from grad school. Hell, I’ve counseled people to drop out of college if the right gig came along. “Why stay in college? Why go to night school? Gonna […]

A Happy Fun Adventure

I killed a cat today. I was walking Elana back to the J train. She asks if we could go to the cheap fruit stand and buy some pineapple. I tell her it’s a little out of the way, but we go anyway. We turn the corner and walk down Jamaica Ave. under the elevated train tracks. Before we walk ten feet we spot a cat in the road. “Ooh, kitty,” she says in that voice that’s affected for babies and kittens, “get out of the way if you don’t want to get hit.” The cat looks dazed. It’s walking in front of cars, slowly and off-balance. It stands in front of a car that’s stopped at the red light. The light changes, and the driver has to back up and turn to avoid the cat, who’s barely moving. We surmise that it’s been hit by a car and debate […]