Times like these

There are a number of reasons why we strive for the upper echelon of societal sects. Some of us are looking to gain assets far beyond our fore-bearers and provide a life that they could not . Some of us are looking to hold power in our hands and wield this like a mighty broad sword in battle. Others strive for that plateau of social elitism so that we can coast through the rest of life, and worry about matters other than that of the monetary.

Whatever the reason is, many of our peers are spending more and more time at work and less and less time at home. We justify the 12-15 hour shifts and weekend fits of binge drinking on the stress of work and the goal of "financial stability." We try to convince ourselves that this is only a temporary sacrifice and this will all end when we attain our goal.

When does the sacrifice cross the line and turn into a blatant disregard for the family and for the personal life?

Finding the balance between work and your personal life requires the greatest sacrifice of them all; or so we are lead to believe. Why must I let my life suffer for years? For the salary? The power? The big house and fancy cars on my very own cul-de-sac? Is that what this is all for?

So who is pressing this issue upon us? Is it ourselves or our bosses and managers? For so many years we, the worker bees, fought for solidarity. We chose our right to choose and now we must live with the consequences and responsibilities. We cannot blame our managers for expecting us to work overtime and weekends. We can only blame ourselves for not putting the truly important facets of our lives on top.

But, again, is it really our fault? Or am I simply looking to push my responsibility on others so that I can stand by my alibi, "I had no choice." What decisions would we own up to at that point? Where do we draw the line between the job and our lives?

The line has been drawn for us, it is simply our choice to stand on either side. Straddling the line is not an option, we must decide. But how is one to decide when the work makes us happy, but the family must suffer?

I can openly speak about my frustration with those who apply double standards and persecute on those beliefs. Nothing is more angering than a flawed set of rules that carry unfair and unjust responsibilities. One of the most prevalent examples is the double standard of sex lives between men and woman.

Example...

A group of college students are going out on Thursday night to the local bar. They all shower for the first time all week and take a number of shots of vodka before they storm out of the dorm. They march towards the bar and start puffing their chests as they recall recent conquests and the last girl they screwed (literally and figuratively). As they enter the bar they flip out their fake ID's and start scoping out the scene. One guy notices a large-breasted woman drinking in the corner with her friends. The guys look at each other and make bets to see who can sleep with her first. After a couple of hours of chattering, one guy begins whispering into her ear; telling her how pretty and nice she is. This guy puts on the whole disguise and starts to tell her everything she wants to hear until they two go home.

The other side...

A group of college students are going out on Thursday night to the local bar. The girls start getting ready around 6pm and help each other put on makeup as they try different outfits on. The girls all take one shot of vodka before they call a cab to bring them to the bar. On their way to the bar the girls speak of a cute boy in a class they they hope is at the bar tonight. The girls all laugh and chuckle as they exit the cab and enter the bar without having to show ID. The girls get a couple drinks and start to talk and recall past memories from high school. At one point a girl notices a group of guys walk in, and one of them is the cute boy she likes from her class. She tells her friends that she hopes he notices her as she begins to straighten her posture and throw some flirty looks his way. Eventually the boy comes over and the two dance and talk for a little while. Just like the girl hoped, the boy is really nice and sweet and is making her feel very good about herself with all of the compliments he is throwing her way. The two finish their drinks and head home.

The stories converge...

The next morning the girl wakes up to an empty bed and sees the guy she just slept with getting dressed. He tells her he has class as he runs out of the dorm and back to his suite to brag to all his friends. The girl lies back down and begins to cry. She gave herself to this boy she thought was a sweet and nice guy, and now she feels used. He never liked her to begin with and all he wanted was sex. The girl jumps out of bed and showers before she heads to brunch. On her way she sees the boy she just slept with walking and laughing with his friends. He never went to class and she never saw it coming.

The confusion...

From the guys perspective, he just "bagged" a cute chick and slept with her - he's the man.
From the girls perspective, she just got played by a cute boy - she's a slut.

The reason I bring up this now is because the former Mayor of New York City is now officially running for President of the United States of America. In a recent article on Reuters, mention was made that while Giuliani is a favorite amongst voters, he may be seeing some resistance from his own party since he stands for rights of gays and abortion. God forbid the man have a soul and wants people to live their own lives!

But here is where the real double standard comes into play. The GOP is well known for their faith based initiatives. They often appeal to the Catholic population as they vehemently oppose abortion and gay marriage. It appears that the GOP is attempting to literally translate the Bible word for word and apply it to modern politics in a society that was founded on the beliefs that religion and government should be separated.

The twist...

The same party that literally translates the Bible is attempting to obscurely define the constitution, a document that is about 1500 years younger. The GOP often throws out catch phrases like, "The fore-fathers never anticipated..." and "We live in a different world now..." These catchy little phrases are very powerful and often succeed in their intent to sway the vote their way. These phrases get people saying, "They are right, the world is different now and we must treat it that way."

However, when the issue of gay marriage comes up, the GOP is very clear in stating, "The Bible never intended for this. Marriage is to be between a man and a woman and is a sacred institution." Now you may remember my post previously on this topic so I won't get into it. The point is this, why is the GOP allowed to literally translate one text and apply that as policy but they are basing their entire platform on the modern world and the need to loosely translate the constitution?

This topic could get me going all day so for now I'll break...Before I break.

My basketball team is playing our third game of the season, and we are finally getting some real opponents. The first two teams we played were dismissed with ease and to be completely honest, it wasn't really much fun. The starting five take the floor(6-man team) and I opt to sit until the first time out so that I can finish the half when we'll need the rebounds. 6 minutes go by and my team calls our first time out. We're down 5 points to a team of former college players but we're sticking close with aggressive defense and all out hustling.

I jump on the court and immediately the tide turns our way. My man (person I am defending) was a little over 6 foot and had a 5'10" guarding him previously. His first few shots are lobbed high and inaccurately towards the hoop. With a few clutch rebounds we are back in the game and up by 3 points. After a quick score on our side I begin to run down court with my man. Suddenly he starts to sprint as I look up and see his teammate throw a bomb down the court and seemingly over my head. While still running backwards, I launch myself into the air and just barely get a finger on the ball. It was just enough to tip the ball out of bounds and stop the clock. after making contact with the ball I feel a sudden movement of my body upwards again. I had expected myself to fall and yet, for a moment, I floated.

In reality I had landed my ass on my man's shoulder. He knelt towards the ground as my heavy frame landed on him, and just as quickly, slid off of him. I saw the ceiling above me next, then it was just black. I didn't get knocked out but I sure as shit closed my eyes as the ceiling turned into the floor and I landed with a ferocious BOOM!

The few fans in the stands let out a painful 'ooooooh' as the whistle blew. My man lent out his hand and said "Nice hustle" as he helped me off the ground. My team congratulated me as I shook off the impact to my left arm. I stayed in the game until halftime and spent those 5 minutes dribbling a ball and squeezing it, trying anything I could to get the soreness in the back of my mind. I continued to play the rest of the game, primarily with one hand as it would hurt to shoot or catch a pass with my left hand.

As the game ended the pain began to intensify, I had most certainly sprained the bastard and couldn't wait to get some ice on it. My friend drove me in my car on the way home as he lives nearby. I walked into the apartment to see Kelly at the computer. Her first words, "Its broken isn't it?" i shrugged off the ridiculous assumption and asked her for a bag of ice. She grabbed the ice and walked me to the couch as I rested for a couple of hours before retreating to bed.

January 10, 2007

Around 3:00 am I am suddenly awakened by a terrible noise, my own bitching. The wrist had really started to hurt more and I was not enjoiing the pain. I threw on some sweats and convinced Kelly to stay in bed while I ran to get some X-Rays real quick.

After watching a doctor take the temperature of an anorexic amputee in his ass, my doctor arrived with the escort for the X-ray. I knew exactly the three views of the bone they were looking for as I broke my right arm only 5 years ago. After another short intermission of waiting and counting the minutes, my doctor returned with glorious news. "It's not broken on the X-Ray, but I think it's broken."

The doctor walked me away from the others and called on the assistance of another female doctor passing by. The two continued to walk with me until they found a dark and unoccupied corner of the hospital. One doctor grabbed a chair for me while the other began digging out the ace bandages and splint materials. The young doctor held my left arm upwards so the other could wrap me up nicely. With no warning at all the primary doctor grabbed my hand and bent it backwards as she placed the splint in place. She held my hand in that position as the other doctor held down my shoulders. At this point I was in more pain than I ever expected and the two doctors were coaching me on my breathing and repeating this phrase, "I knew it was broken."

The doctors handed me a pill of percoset and told me to call for a ride. Since Kelly was sleeping I didn't want to bother her and so I faked the phone call and rushed home as the dizziness settled in and knocked me out.

January 11, 2007

The orthopedist concurred that I broke a bone, the scaphoid. He then proceeded to put a full arm cast on me and even locked the thumb in place. As I left the office I could feel the weight of the HUGE cast bearing down on my shoulders. I still thought I had control of my arm as I often attempted to do things like scratch my face or cover my mouth during a cough.

As the weeks passed, I continued to fight the broken bone theory as I felt fine. A week later I am sitting in an operating room getting a screw drilled into my bone so the bone can heal properly. Now I sit here slowly working my fingers, but not my thumb, and praying that this new cast will be taken off tomorrow, February 9, 2007. At this point I still can't believe how quickly time has passed since I broke my wrist; but I'm certainly not complaining. I am still typing with one hand, but every now and then I throw in a finger from the other hand to assist me and get my thoughts out quicker. I'd have to say that the broken hand may have been the best thing for me at the time. Seeing as how I could no longer type as fast as I thought, I was forced to spend more time thinking and rethinking as I pecked out my sentences, one key at a time.

With all of this time to think I have come to a couple very important conclusions. The first being my living situation. Long Island is simply too expensive and not realistic. I took this opportunity to bring this to Kelly's attention and now we are discussing alternative places to live. With this new thought came thoughts of work. No longer should I be focusing on jobs at CA or Symbol as I am now looking to remove myself from that area. The end result is the possibility of a return to my first company, RWD Technologies. Now that would be a change!