Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

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Sanford and Stanford

October 21, 2008 / / 31 Comments

Sanford:  Hi, I’m Redd Foxx.

Stanford:  And I’m Wille Garson.

Sanford:  Together we play Sanford and Stanford, on the new hit CBS comedy of the same name.

Stanford:  And if you have no idea what we are talking about, you apparently didn’t read Neilochka’s last post, which has been up there for at least five days. 

Sanford:  Yeah, what’s your problem?  Why didn’t you read it, you sucka?  How would you like one across yo’ lip??!

Stanford:  Ha Ha, Redd.  Remember, non-violence is the answer.  Unless, we are fighting for a table at Hugo’s in West Hollywood for Sunday brunch!

Sanford:  That was one lame fruitcake joke, Stanford. 

Stanford:  On our show, the two of us are constantly battling as I attempt to transform Fred’s old junkyard into a trendy B&B for the gay, lesbian and transgender community. 

Sanford:  Transgender?  What the hell is that?!

Stanford:  (whispers something in his ear)

Sanford:  Holy…!  (grabbing his chest)  Oh, this is the big one! You hear that, Elizabeth?! I’m coming to join you, honey!”

Stanford:  Ooh boy, and I thought only gay men were drama queens!

Sanford:  As you can see, on Sanford and Stanford, we play it up for laughs.  But today, as part of CBS Cares, we’d like to talk to you about something that is not funny at all — an issue that is heating up America during this election year.

Stanford:  We are speaking about “Can Male and Female Bloggers Ever Be Friends?”

Sanford:  And Stanford and I both agree — the answer is “Yes”.

OK, this is Neilochka.  I am interrupting this post for three reasons.

1)  It is not that funny.
2)  I cannot come up with a good ending.
3)  I am worried that readers born after 1980 have never heard of Sanford and Son, and will think of me as an old fart who doesn’t know what LOL means.

The point of this post is to say that I met Astrogirl from Notes From the Bunker this weekend.  We had a great time together.  We had pizza at my favorite Queens pizzeria, Valentino’s.  We saw art at the Frick Collection.

We then went to a cool exhibit on Chinese Propaganda at the Asia Society. 

We ate sushi and I got slightly drunk on sake.  Oh, and yeah, she is married, so it was all safe.  There was no action other than her letting me see her tattoo on her back.

But Astrogirl was also nice enough to give me hints on some “do”s and “don’t”s for when I actually go on a REAL date.

For example, don’t make a woman self-conscious about food.  I’ve met quite a few female bloggers for lunch and I am always fascinated by what they order — and don’t order.  I’m always wondering — are some women afraid of being seen eating a sandwich or finishing everything on the plate?  Is it a rule for the woman to fake insecurity about ordering dessert?  Do women really want a “side salad” when the man orders a six foot hero?  Should the man order a boring salad too, just to show comraderie?  Finally, while it might seem like a compliment to tell a classy dame like Astrogirl that, “You are ordering two slices of pizza?! I love that you’re doing that.  I hate when women only order a salad and never finish it.  You clearly have no phobia about eating!  I knew I was going to like you in person!” she probably is going to overlook the accolades and just think that you are calling her a pig.

Sanford:  I know my sister-in-law Esther can swallow a whole franchise of Domino’s in one night.

Esther:  You shut up Fred, you fish-eyed heathen!

Sanford:  Oh no, Esther, where the hell do you come from?  You scared me.  You are so ugly, I could stick your face in some pizza dough and it would scare away the tomato sauce.

Stanford:  Come on, you two.  I hate when people fight.  Unless of course if it is a party at David Geffen’s home and we both show up wearing the same outfit!

Sanford:  Stanford, you big dummy!

Neilochka:  Boy, this Sanford and Stanford idea is as unfunny as a SNL skit! 

(By the way, don’t worry, Astrogirl, I’m also gonna tell my readers that you are like size -4 so other women can hate you as one of those skinny bitches who can eat two slices of pizza without even worrying about it).

What the Kids Say

October 17, 2008 / / 60 Comments

Am I losing my cool? Do I need to listen to more hip hop? I used to be the hippest dude on the block. Now I watch re-runs of Matlock on TV.

Yesterday, there were four comments that sent me over to Google Search. Where do you people pick up your words? Is it because I don’t have kids? I don’t know what you are talking about half the time!

These are four actual comments left yesterday:

I’d let you rub my honker at a BlogHer pajama party — Black Hockey Jesus

OK, now I’m not stupid. I’m assuming BHJ is referring to his dick. Or do I just assume every guy is talking about his dick? I could swear, though, that “honker” used to be a slang for nose. I think I can actually remember a Bugs Bunny episode where Bugs squeezes Elmer Fudd’s “honker.”

Educate me!

I don’t know why men and women bloggers can’t be friends. I would like my very own Sanford, though — Sammanthia

I was totally lost here. Sanford? The only connection I could make here was to the seventies sitcom, Sanford and Son. But what is the meaning? Is Sammanthia saying she has a fantasy of making love to an older, foul-mouthed African-American man who runs a junk yard? Hey, I don’t judge anyone’s sex dreams, but why is she mentioning it here in this context?

Educate me.

No. Those friendships are impossible. I’m fucking TIRED of moms asking me for pictures of my moobs. — Backpacking Dad

Moobs. After a second I did figure it out. Moobs = man boobs. But are we talking about any man? Or are we referring to an overweight guy who might have a “chest?” Is it a compliment to tell my trainer at the gym that “he has great moobs” or is it an insult? This is a word that I will not be using very often. I don’t even say the word boobs. Too wimpy. I say “tits.”

Educate me!

We don’t have mallowmars here, so if you’re coming for dinner, you can bring them! and bring your mom too, she can sleep over, i’ve always got room for “nana”. — Better Safe than Sorry

Nana? First of all, let me say, that I have never heard anyone Jewish call any relative “nana.” There is no more “goyish” word than “nana.” Someone Protestant might ask, “Will “Nana” be coming to the Easter dinner?” You will never hear someone Jewish ask, “Will “Nana” be bringing the kugel to the Passover seder.” Besides, I always thought that “Nana” meant grandmother. Now I know my mother just retired, but are you going to call my mother “Grandma” when you meet her? Unless there is something you want to tell about that little “lunch” we had nine months ago?

Educate me!

Now if I know most of you are laughing at me, feeling good about yourself, saying Neilochka is such a stick in the mud while I am so hip with the lingo!

Well, now is your chance to prove it to me. I just read this article in my mother’s, uh… AARP magazine titled, What Are They Talking About? 50 Words That Kids Think You Don’t Know.

Prove to me that we really are BFF. Tell me how many you DON’T KNOW. The answers are on the AARP site.

crackberry
google
hit
webisode
wikidemia
BFF
IDK
LOL
OMG
ROFL
TMI
bling
tatted out
tramp stamp
scooby doos
soul patch
baby mama
boo
cougar
cupcaking
flirtationship
brodown
bromance
frenemy
n00b
peeps
crunk
emo
mash up
check vitals
floss
friend
jump the shark
rock
talk smack
fo’ shizzle
obvi
totes
bomb, the
off the chain
ridonkulous
sick
tight
wack
chav
nutter
snog
T5

Now, how cool am I — referencing the rad AARP magazine?! Sweet!

More Angst: A Question for Married Female Bloggers

October 16, 2008 / / 57 Comments

I’m a crazy guy with marital issues who currently lives with his mother and talks about his penis all the time. You’re an attractive, intelligent married woman with two children. We both blog.

Can we ever really become friends?

Was I “safer” as a male blogger when I was living with Sophia? Should I steer away from commenting on your cleavage in every Flickr photo, even after ten other women did the exact same thing? Should I even try to say hello to you on IM or does it seem like I am on the prowl, especially after I admited to my one night wild online sex email night? Do you think it bothers the Palinode that I am better friends with his wife, the better-looking Schmutzie? If I were travelling in your town, would your family put me up for the night? Would your husband care if he caught us in bed together during the afternoon, even though we were only eating malomars and watching “All My Children” (but in the nude, since it is the best way to watch soaps). Is there a way to be a buddy with you, respecting you wit and intelligence, while at the same time, acknowleging that I am a man and you are a woman, and that I am not your gay sidekick from Sex in the City?

Imaginary IM Conversation:

Me: “.. so anyway, you just click on that WordPress plugin, and that should take care of you blog backups..”

She: “That was so easy. Thanks, Neilochka. You Rawk!”

Me: “Oh, and I saw that new photo of you on Facebook. Wow, your breasts are amazing! Your husband is one lucky man.”

She: “Thanks, I’ll tell Jim you said so. You coming to the BlogHer pajama party on Saturday?”

Me: “Absolutely. I’m already working on the Swedish meatballs for the pot luck.”

She: “Mmmm. All the girls can’t wait to see you. We loved how you felt us all up — one by one — during the night. You have such big… hands! Jim thought that was so funny and… typical of you. Are you going to be doing it again this time?”

Me: “If it is OK with Jim and the other husbands…”

She: “Sure, sure. They love it when we have a good time with you. I mean, we work so hard during the week with the kids. Why shouldn’t we have some fun?”

Me: “Jim’s a great husband.”

She: “He’s the best, and a good provider. And despite whatever problems you have with Sophia, it’s wonderful that she is understanding, too. It really isn’t such a big deal that your female blog friends enjoy giving you oral sex so much. She knows that it isn’t serious — only a form of affection for our “Neilochka.” We consider it more “social media” and “community building.””

Me: “My community is building right now thinking about it… if you know what I mean.”

She: “LOL (spits diet Coke onto monitor) You are so… funny!”

A One Day Break From Arrogance

October 15, 2008 / / 36 Comments

I miss Brenda, my friendly therapist in Los Angeles, the one with the nice legs. During our last meeting, I told her I was going to New York for a few month. I was embarrassed to tell her this, fearing that she would consider it a cop-out, that I was running away from my problems rather than solving it. Instead, she surprised me and said it showed great progress.

“You’re taking action. It doesn’t matter what action. It could be an action that backfires. But it is better than doing nothing.”

My last two posts have been all about action. The purpose? I have no idea! The concept of publicly announcing my blog as the greatest blog ever created was so outlandish to me — almost sinful — that I became tremendously horny after publishing it. I’ve always hated those obnoxious blatantly-promotional blog badges, so placing one my blog was the equivalent of bungie jumping off of of Mount Rushmore, and I felt the adrenaline rush in the most obvious of places.

That said, I am a little worried that I am boring you. I seem to be writing a lot about blogging rather than real life. But let me assure you, if you read between the lines, this has anything to do with blogging. It is just easier to take action in the virtual world before attempting the same in the real world.

So, I took some action. I said my blog was the best blog ever created. I didn’t die from my hubris. The world is not all black and white, where every decision is monumental and forever. Recently, I even mentioned the word “divorce” with Sophia. But I said it in a clever, loving way. I said, “What is the worst thing that can happen? If we wanted to get married again, we could! Didn’t Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton get married and divorced eleven times?!” By presenting it in this manner, it defused some of the tension. We haven’t done anything, and it isn’t on the agenda right now, but it felt good to take some “action.”

OK, enough with real life. Back to blogging. I never liked guest posts. Two months ago, I had some guest posters write on my blog, randomly picked. They were terrific and I survived giving up some control. I never wanted to write for another blog. I started writing for another blog, for money — one that is corporate sponsored. Two days ago, I displayed a badge for a blogging contest, even later adding the actual link, after a blogger called me out for being a wimp.

But my biggest online nemesis remains: yes, advertising. That is my dragon. For years. I’ve written so much about this issue that other bloggers have started to make fun of me, like Rattling the Kettle.

I told Jennifer from Thursday Drive my plan.

“What’s the big deal? I can try advertising for one month and if I don’t like it, I can dump it.”

“Sounds good.” she said.

“It’s no big deal. I used to be against it for symbolic reasons. Bloggers would say they “deserve” to get paid for entertaining their readers. That statement made me sick. We’re all entertaining each other, like a barter system. If anything, I should be paying YOU for coming here and enhancing my blog posts with your comments. But enough. I’m done with this hang-up. It is time to take some action!”

At that point, Jennifer fell asleep on the other end, tried of me always IM-ing her and talking endlessly about myself. But it didn’t matter. I was ready for Healthy Arrogance, Day 3: Advertising and Money!

But then my brain started playing games. I felt a pain in my side and I had to lie down. I felt dizzy. My arrogance was slipping away. I know it is ridiculous. I know this all my seem very silly to most decent citizens. Whatever I decide, I don’t want the fear — and psychological angst — to make the decision for me. I want to decide myself — and take action one way or another, like I want to do with other things in my life. New York or Los Angeles? Married or not? Crest or Colgate? Advertising or not? It’s time to make a stand and overcome this. And not be so wishy-washy about the reasons.

Uh, I’m not ready yet for this decision. I need one more day.

Healthy Arrogance, Day 2 — Hire Me As a Speaker at Conferences

October 14, 2008 / / 33 Comments

Are you a company looking to market to bloggers? A corporation excited about the potential of “social media?” A blogger wanting to increase his readership?

One of the best ways to educate yourself is to attend a web or blogging conference. Unfortunately, most attendees leave disappointed in the seminars. Six hundred dollars for THAT?!

Why are these conference such letdowns?

It is the speakers.

Most web conferences are led my marketers and and PR pundits. Have you ever actually read their blogs or Twitter messages? They are all about marketing, PR, and how to use Twitter. What can they teach you about engaging an audience? Absolutely NOTHING!

Hi, I’m Neil Kramer. I’m a writer. Ever since the time of Plato and Aristotle, it has been the writers and artists that have influenced the world. They know how to make a reader laugh and cry, sometimes with the same sentence. Why listen to someone who talks about market share when you can be learning from the person who shops in the market?

For the past three years, whenever companies think about bloggers, it has been all about the mommybloggers. Forget the mommybloggers. They have reached their saturation point. Another mommyblogger network? Yawn. It is time for a fresh face. Why not make your company or blog stand out in the crowd — and go for the SENSITIVE MALE — one who understands men AND WOMEN, parents and NON-PARENTS, married and NOT MARRIED?! My demographics include men, women, black, white, Latinos, Asians, gay and straight – and my mother. If I had my druthers, I could have 1000 people wheeling a new Bugaboo stroller or the new Diet Coke by tomorrow.

Besides, I KNOW more mommybloggers than the typical mommyblogger.

But I don’t want to be a salesperson or promoter on my blog. I enjoy being a writer. Selling stuff is not a challenge to me. In fact, it is so easy to me — it is almost boring. Writing is hard. Marketers want you to think that their job is hard. Ha! That’s why they always use such complicated words, like “branding.” I will explain branding to you within the first ten seconds of my session. I know your business depends on interaction with customers and clients. That’s why I want to teach YOU how to do it EFFECTIVELY, the “Neilochka” way.

“Where have you been all this time?” you might ask me. “I have never heard of you.” Well, that’s because I’ve been busy blogging, not promoting myself. I haven’t been wasting my time networking with other “influencers” who only know how to influence other “influencers.” I have been “in the field,” like a journalist at wartime. I know what it is like to blog on a personal level with others, the minor hurts, the major victories, the loneliness, the comraderie, the sexiness, and the anger. Ask around. My session on Male-Female Blog Friendships would be THE break-out hit at the BlogHer conference, if not for the discriminatory policy pooh-poohing male speakers at the conference.

What you will learn from me:

1) How to write engaging content.

Is your corporate blog as dull as a meal at the Olive Garden? That’s probably because your PR firm is developing the content while sipping lattes in the conference room. You need someone with actual EXPERIENCE in LIFE — someone who can chat about something other than the latest Firefox browser. I don’t need to come up with “tips” on “engaging readers.” My background as a reader of MAD magazine, the second-place winner of the Queens County spelling bee, and my four year sentence as an English major in college has prepared me for a life of writing words and coming up with literary puns stolen from the classics. I am also a film school graduate, completely adept at film, video and audio production, except for that one time I forgot to put the film in the camera. I am like a one man f**king multimedia company!

2) Community building.

There are NO other bloggers more knowledgeable about community building than I am. How many bloggers do you know who has actually had online sex with one of their readers? I bring that intimate experience with me when I work with my clients. Have you seen The Great Interview Experiment? The Annual Christmahanukwanzaakah Holiday concert (the third one this December!)? No sponsors. No badges. Just me caring about other people, with the hope of one day seeing one naked. Most people know SHIT compared to me in online community building.

3) Social Media.

Social Media is all the rage nowadays, but most marketers and PR gurus think that putting hashtags and live-tweeting from conferences is of interest to anyone other than themselves. The truth is that most social media mavens have NO INTEREST in interacting with the general public. They use social media completely to promote themselves. Are these the types of individuals or companies you want advising you on reaching the Joe and Jane Public? That’s like asking John McCain to name his favorite rap group. I am very active in the social media communty. I spend more time on Twitter and Facebook than I do watching porno movies on RedTube. That’s a lot. On Twitter and Facebook, I have gotten into arguments over politics. I’ve flirted. I’ve made lame jokes. I’ve discussed the worst rock song of the 1980’s. I am a social media DIVA! A Zen Master! One who actually uses social media for something SOCIAL!

Neil Kramer. writer. Multimedia Expert. Blogger. Community Builder. Social Media Maven. Dancer. Designer of “The Talking Penis” brand of outerwear.

I am now available for conferences, corporate meetings, and one-on-one sessions with prominent CEOs. Email me for fees. (I’m not cheap, but I am oh-so-worth-it).

The Best Blog of All Time

October 13, 2008 / / 48 Comments

My site was nominated for Best Blog of All Time!

I am lucky to have Sophia in my life. She helps me “grow.” She teaches me confidence. By nature, I back away from distinguishing myself, about grabbing the most out of life. I have a therapy-sized sense of modesty, insecurity, and need to be liked. But I am 100x stronger than when I first got married.

Today is the anniversary of our marriage. Not surprisingly, I had been depressed all day, lying on the couch, 3000 miles away from my separated wife, looking out the window, watching the cars pull in and out of the Pathmark supermarket parking lot.

I mentioned my blahs on Twitter, and got some heartfelt advice: Anymommy told me to eat something with chocolate and peanut butter. Several other women suggested ice cream (surprise!) TwentyFour and Antonia told me to start drinking. Mir was the most practical with her suggestion to rent some porn. (Rent porn?! Who rents porn anymore?)

The comment that most caught my eye was from Ricewenchie:

Do something nice for yourself today. Like create a new anniversary for this day…

At first, I thought that was a dumb idea, and somewhat delusional. If Sophia and I ever divorce, am I supposed to re-write history and forever think of October 13 as the day I bought a Hamilton Beach blender at the discount store for my mother in order to show her how to make a smoothie (that was the one big event of the day)?

But after thinking about it, I embraced the idea, with a little tweak. To celebrate our wedding anniversary in any traditional way makes me sad, while ignoring it is impossible. So, instead, I will combine the two — like chocolate and peanut butter — and focus on the positive — something good that marriage has brought to my life, and how it has changed me, despite the current status.

That’s why I put that badge on top. I can’t think of anything more arrogant than putting up a badge that announces your blog as “The Best Blog Of All Time.” Do I believe this? Sophia believes it. She was the one who nominated me. And I think that she will appreciate this unusual gesture of me posting it on my blog, knowing that she is the one who has always has been my strongest ally in anything I pursued. I would have never had the guts to put that up there if I had never met Sophia. Being married to her has given me strength in many areas of my life. Some cojones. And being a little arrogant every once in a while is good for a man. Even sexy. Why should I be afraid of saying that this is the best blog of all time?! Or that I you should hire me above all others because I am more talented. Or that you should date me because my singing will make you swoon?

Now I need to deal with some other issues in my life with the same confidence.

Happy Anniversary, Sophia, and thank you for helping to make me fearless. Well, maybe I shouldn’t get too arrogant. Let’s just say that I’m working on it.

Note: Just to show you how hard it is to change, Return to Rural called me out with the truth — I didn’t actually link to the award site because… well, that would be too arrogant. I wimped out. But I just changed that and added the link.

Lunch at Lenny’s Clam Bar

October 11, 2008 / / 28 Comments


Commercial for Lenny’s Clam Bar from the late 1970’s

So, it was like my mudder’s birthday on Thursday and… that’s right, my muddah. What the f*ck is wrong with you? You don’t got no muddah? Just shuddup and listen to my story before I f**kin’ take a baseball bat to your head. Vaffanculo!

It was one of those Jewish holidays on Thursday, and you know how those friggin’ Jews are a pain in butt — non mi scazzare i coglioni — so we had to celebrate her birthday on Friday instead. So, we got a couple of her buddies and ding dang dong, before you know it, we are cruisin in Howard Beach, Queens to the famous Lenny’s Clam Bar. Now that is a f**kin’ place that knows how to treat a grosso calibro with dignity, not like that demeaning friggin stuff you get at the fake Goomba Olive Garden, where their manicotti is as hot and sticky as my balls and their garlic bread is as hard to bite as a .45 automatic.

Sure, when we first walked into Lenny’s, the lying maitre de told us they didn’t have no stinkin’ lunch menu when they really did, un bastardo, but whatcha expect? Times are fuckin’ tough. Even the Wall Street guys don’t want to pay a hooker two hundred bucks for un pompino! You want a lunch menu, take your big ass over to one of those places where that Chinaman puts who knows what merda into his chop suey. Vaffanculo a Lei, la sua moglie, e’ la sua madre. Lei e’ un cafone stronzo. Io non mangio in questo merdaio! Vada via in culo! (You, sir, go fuck yourself–and your wife and your mother. You are a common turd! I’m not going to eat in this shithouse. Fuck you!) from the book Merda! The REAL Italian You Were Never Taught in School by Roland Delicio © 1993 from Penguin Books.

But let me tell ya, the food at Lenny’s — la cena era deliziosa. Just like mamma used to make. And everyone’s been there. Frank, Frank Jr., Rocky Graziano, the “Family,” all the Sopranos — they love the shrimp and the clams!

Oh, by the way, the waitress at Lenny’s — una bella fica (very nice ass). It was a memorable birthday for my muddah, and for me.

Boys into Men

October 10, 2008 / / 44 Comments

Back in August, Twenty Four at Heart published a post about male/female communication and sex. Most of those who commented were women, and they seemed to agree that men were crazed horndogs who thought about sex ALL the time. At the time, the comments bugged me. After all, most of these commenters were mothers of boys. How do these cute little boys become these sex maniacs? Is it genetics? Is it cultural? What is the mother’s role in all this?

I wrote this comment:

I think a few of your readers were confusing thinking and acting. I think you can be the most loving and loyal husband, a man who finds his wife the sexiest woman alive, and still thing about sex with the waitress serving the burger at the diner. This doesn’t mean that the man would have sex, or even WANT to if she actually came onto him. It just is. And frankly, if I think men were given as much freedom as women to express their emotions — cry, hug, say I love you to their friends — without seeming unmanly, they wouldn’t have to fall back on sexing up every encounter with a woman. Many men have no other way of expressing themselves.

Months later, I still remember this post. I used to think that I was different than other men, but I’m not. I also find it hard connecting with a woman without thinking of her naked at least once during the conversation.

Yom Kippur 2008

October 8, 2008 / / 30 Comments

I take Yom Kippur seriously. Well, somewhat. I’m not going to synagogue this year, but I will fast most of the day. Am I religious? Not really. But unlike the other Jewish holidays, which revolve around food and family, this one is serious and solemn, and that makes me a little scared and anxious.

I kinda like that. You can feel the AWE.

On Yom Kippur, it’s as if the entire world is on your shoulders. The way I see it, on Christmas, Santa Claus may not give you a good toy if you were a bad boy. On Yom Kippur, God might just stick you with a really crappy year for the same reason.

From Wikipedia:

Yom Kippur (Hebrew: יוֹם כִּפּוּר‎, IPA: [ˈjɔm kiˈpur]), also known in English as the Day of Atonement, is the most solemn and important of the Jewish holidays. Its central themes are atonement and repentance. Jews traditionally observe this holy day with a 25-hour period of fasting and intensive prayer, often spending most of the day in synagogue services.

Yom Kippur is the tenth and final day of the Ten Days of Repentance which begin with Rosh Hashanah. According to Jewish tradition, God inscribes each person’s fate for the coming year into a “book” on Rosh Hashanah and waits until Yom Kippur to “seal” the verdict. During the Ten Days of Repentance, a Jew tries to amend his behavior and seek forgiveness for wrongs done against God (bein adam leMakom) and against his fellow man (bein adam lechavero). The evening and day of Yom Kippur are set aside for public and private petitions and confessions of guilt (Vidui). At the end of Yom Kippur, one considers himself absolved by God.

There has been debates FOREVER about the real meaning of this “book of life” and how God seals your verdict. Does God really decide who will live and who will die? What about free will? And during the service, why does every ask for repetenace for sins they didn’t even do – like murder and robbery? Are we responsible for everyone’s sins? And the biggest question of them all — why do bad things happen to good people?

Recently, I chatted with a blogger who is very into “the Secret.” She believes that we attract good things through positive thought. So, I asked her what the Secret said about bad things.

“What if you get hit by a bus?” I asked. “Are you attracting the bus to hit you?”

“In a way you are.”

“Why would you WANT to be hit by a bus?”

“Maybe there is some larger reason you don’t know about.”

I find that nonsense.

Last year, Kyran from “Notes to Self” wrote an interesting post about The Secret after she viewed the DVD. Even though she saw some merit in positive thinking, she came away with the same conclusion about using The Secret on a day to day basis:

What does The Secret have to say about all the bright and hope-filled children in the world who suffer?

Judaism is not The Secret, as much as Madonna might think so. The Secret is mostly about achieving personal success. Judasim is a covenant with God. But both have the same problem that all religions do –explaining the randomness of life, and all the bad stuff that happens in it.

That said, I am too afraid of ignoring Yom Kippur completely. Just in case.

May you all be inscribed in the Book of Life.

The following song about Elijah the Prophet by the Moshav Band is probably more suitable for Passover than Yom Kippur, but even on this holiest of days, it is still my blog, and I can do what I want.

Chat with a New Blogger

October 7, 2008 / / 54 Comments

One day, you wake up and you realize that you have been blogging for a long time.    When that happens, there is nothing as invigorating as chatting with a new blogger,  a new mommyblogger with youthful energy and that special glint in her eye.   Was I once that innocent, so full of hope about the blogosphere?    It is a wonderful moment like this that bring me back to when I was “green” and searching for my place in this exciting virtual world we call the internet.   Once I was the student.  Now I have become the teacher!

Wednesday night on Yahoo Messenger:

She:   Hey,  Neilochka!   How’s New York?

Me:    OK. Pretty good.

She:   Having fun?

Me:    Sometimes.

She:   Are you hanging out with xxx-Dad and xxx-Mom now that you’re staying in New York?

Me:    No.  I don’t know them.

She:   You don’t know xxx-Dad and xxx-Mom?  Everyone knows them.

Me:    I’ve seen their names.   I just never read them.

She:   You’ve never read them?  Everyone reads them.

Me:    Well, here’s one who hasn’t.   Maybe I’m waiting for them to read me first.

She:   Ha Ha, I think they’re too busy for that.

Me:   Thanks.

She:   But, wow.  I thought you were one of those guys.

Me:    What do you mean?

She:   Like you knew the big bloggers.

Me:    I know some.

She:   Like who?

Me:    Like personally?

She:   Like who’s the biggest blogger you talk with?

Me:    Hmmm… sometimes I IM with Schmutzie.

She:   Yeah, but she’s not THAT big.

Me:    She’s very talented.  But it’s all relative.  What makes someone big?

She:   Well, you have a 314 authority in Technorati.

Me:    That’s not so big.  It’s also deceptive.  Every time someone posts their Interview on their blog, I get a   link.  It has nothing to do with my blog or my writing or me.  90% of the people who do the interview never even read any of my posts.

She:   But you get the links!  That’s great.  I wouldn’t mind having those links.

Me:    What are you going to do with those links?

She:   That’s how you get on people’s blogrolls and you get even bigger.

Me:    I’m looking at your blog right now.  Look at your blogroll.  All you have on it — are the same five blogs as everyone else.  They’re never going to put you on their blogrolls.  Hey, I don’t see me on YOUR blogroll.

She:   I only put a select few.  The ones I read every day.

Me:    So, you don’t read mine every day.

She:   I read it every three days.

Me:    So, there you go.  You’re on my blogroll.  And you treat the ones who are ignoring you better than the one who isn’t.

She:   You have a point there.

Me:    It makes me think that if I didn’t put you on my blogroll, I would actually be MORE interesting to you.

She:   Maybe.

Me:    And that’s crazy.

She:   I know.  Did you get to see Bossy during her road trip?

Me:    Huh?  I don’t know Bossy.

She:   You don’t know Bossy?  Oh, well, it was great finally chatting with you.

Me:    Yeah, it was fun.  Don’t get so caught up in these things. It will drive you crazy.

She:   I know.  I’m too sensitive.

Me:    It happens to all of us.  Like today, I have this new application for Twitter that tells you when someone unfollows you.  And today, I got a message that X unfollowed me.

She:   Wow, and she’s big. I would be devastated.

Me:    Maybe I was rambling too much on Twitter.

She:   Yeah, I can definitely see that happening.

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