Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Category: Products (Page 3 of 5)

Heavy Petting

December 11, 2006 / / 44 Comments

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Your pet can take a photo
with Santa at PetSmart!

I don’t know if I will make this a tradition of actually writing about every single person I make my “Blog Crush of the Day,” but tomorrow my crush will be the ultra-popular Laurie of “Crazy Aunt Purl.”  For some reason, I have always been attracted to someone very different than myself.  Laurie is a Southerner who writes a knitting blog.  On paper, I have absolutely nothing in common with her — which perfectly explains why I am fascinated with her. 

Like many women, Laurie loves her cats.  She even writes about them today.  I’m always making fun of her cats.  I’ve never had a pet, so maybe I just can’t relate.  I’ve always wanted a dog, but never had the chance to own one. 

On TV, I’ve been noticing advertisements for PetSmart, which is touting itself as the best place to buy your pet a Christmas gift.  I asked her this question, and I want to ask you the same:

“I’m curious, as a pet owner, do you actually give your dog or cat a Christmas or Hanukkah gift?”

In the past, I might have thought you were odd if you said “yes,” but I think my views are changing.  If someone is so loving with their pets, maybe this person is as giving with everyone, including her friends and family. 

Still, be prepared for my mother to make fun of you when she reads, “Of course I give my poodle a gift.”  

My mother will probably say, “Those blodgers are crazy!”

My First Attempt at Targeted Advertising

October 24, 2006 / / 40 Comments

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For the upcoming Poetry Thursday
demographic:  hot Yoga chicks

I’ve mastered my emotions
Through tantric practices
Through careful meditation
I’m a Ayurvedic wiz
I know my Bhakti Yoga
I’ve sat with Liz Elayne
I’ve read my Upanishads
While posing in the rain
To reach my inner chakras
is actually quite hard
That’s why I feel my oneness
With the Enlightenment Visa Card

You know how several times a year, you get offers for credit cards from every organization you’ve ever been connected with:  the AAA, your college alumni, Amazon.com.  Do you have any doubt that if my penis would apply for a Mastercard, that he would be approved for one?

I just happened to find the idea of an Enlightenment Visa card amusing.   From their website:

Finally, a credit card for people like us

Some people say money is evil…

We say “how” money is used determines the effect.

The Enlightenment Card was founded on the idea that money is energy and if used with positive and integrative intention, can have the power to affect change in our lives and the world. Everyone uses a credit card, so why not have one where people can earn points towards positive products and services that enhances their overall “Conscious” life path? Some of the categories of rewards you can earn points toward are yoga classes, organic products, retreats + workshops, travel, books + DVD’s, personal care, spa treatments, and more…And, members can even redeem their points to make donations to charities such as Trees for the Future.

Is collecting 154,000 Reward Points for a Thai Yoga Massage at a fancy resort really that much better than American Airlines Frequent Flier Miles?

There are eight different cards you can choose from, including “Truth,” “Love,” and “Peace,” each with a different “spiritual” picture on it.

I LOVE the Enlightenment Card’s slogan:  “Changing your world with every point you earn.” 

Promotional Awareness

October 8, 2006 / / 54 Comments

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After I made my blog “pink” for Breast Awareness Month, I received a surprising email from someone who is against the whole concept of “awareness” month.  It seems as if there are quite a few people out there who think corporations are using their support of breast cancer for their own profit and brand awareness.  Are yogurt brands really interested in breast cancer or are they just marketing to women?  

From the blog  I Blame the Patriarchy:

But where’s the activism? The ostensible focus of all this pseudo-philanthropic pink jockeying is a kind of nebulous breast cancer ‘awareness’, rather than any serious effort at prevention or investigation into what actually causes breast cancer in the first place. Furthermore, once all this ‘awareness’ has produced, via mammography outreach programs or self-exam propaganda (both masquerading as ‘prevention’), a positive diagnosis, there’s not any great push to secure treatment for underserved women.

I don’t agree with this type of reasoning.   A lot of money is going to good use and all this corporate sponsorship is surely helping.  Or is it?

Politicians support virtually unopposable ‘bipartisan’ breast cancer funding initiatives as directed by behemoths like the massively influential and reactionary Komen Foundation and come out smelling like a rose. The rank and file, conditioned by now to believe that there’s no problem shopping can’t solve, are invited to feel virtuous and altruistic whenever they buy a Yoplait yogurt or a pink KitchenAid mixer.

My question for these naysayers:  would it be better if it were the other way — and there was no corporate sponsorship?  And isn’t this exactly what progressives have been asking for — for corporations to be more responsive to their consumers?  You think supermarkets (and Walmart) are completely altruistic because they have started to carry organic foods?  Or Starbucks carrying coffee from certain countries?  Of course they hope to make profits while doing some “good.”

But, I thank you, e-mailer, for opening my eyes to an interesting topic.

This mix of promotion and politics was on my mind last night when I thought about going to the movies by myself.   With Sophia in New York for October, I thought about finding the movie with the most sex in it.

I read about Shortbus, a film by the director of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” which is supposed filled with actors having real-life sex.  Perfect!

Now, once upon a time, moviegoers used to go to pornographic movies because they were horny or wanted to have some fun.  Things are different today.  You buy Yoplait yogurt because they support breast cancer awareness.  And you go to a porno movie because it is anti-Bush.  I read this before heading out the door —

A US film featuring actors performing real sex is a “call to arms” against President George W. Bush, the director told journalists at the Cannes film festival.

“Shortbus,” an explicit, largely improvised arthouse flick is a direct provocation, director John Cameron Mitchell admitted.

“It’s a little bit of a cri de coeur to us, a little bit of a call to arms” against the prevailing conservatism, he told a media conference, adding that his country was living in “the era of Bush, which is about clamping down, being scared.”

The 43-year-old, whose previous work was “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” about a transsexual rock singer, said the film was his own small act of defiance against Bush.

“If you can’t do elections you might as well do erections,” he said.

Oh, I see.   So, now the Whole Foods crowd, doesn’t have to feel guilty about going to see a SEX movie.  They are going to see an anti-Bush film.  In fact, by going to see to this movie — it’s a vote against the administration.

Yogurt as a breast cancer awareness tool.   Dislike of George Bush as a reason to see people f***ing.

I decided against going to the movies.  I went to a local juice bar wearing my pink breast cancer bracelet, met a cute girl, and asked her if she wanted to come back to my place to “protest the policies of the current administration.”

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Survivor: Santa Fe

Donut Shop Redux (Now with Sprint Phone)

October 4, 2006 / / 39 Comments

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Six months ago, Sprint invited me to become part of the Sprint Ambassador program. I received the Samsung SPH-A920 phone and free service for six months.  Sophia, being my blog editor, received one as well.  They were interested in feedback and let’s be honest — me blogging about it (although this wasn’t a requirement).  I really like the phone — it has great sound quality — but Sophia LOOOVES the phone and the service, especially now that she is in NY, working as a Russian Dialect Coach par excellence on an independent film. Miss Lansky uses it all the time and is totally turned on by the fact that you can download music, watch TV and movies, read the NY Times, play Ms. Pac-Man, get talking walking directions, find restaurants, etc. all on one phone. Of course, if we had to PAY for all of this, we wouldn’t be able to eat.

Sophia, being Sophia, thinks we can wrangle our way into getting another SIX months with the phone. I told her it was a six month deal, and everyone seems to have gotten the same email recently that “time was up.” Sophia does not understand those words.

“Maybe if you had blogged about the phone more, Sprint would let you keep it.”

“How many times can I blog about it? I did blog about it.”

“You blogged about it ONCE — using the camera phone to take a photo of your c**k. That’s not the type of publicity Sprint wants.”

“The official phone of Neil’s…”

“That’s not funny. Write about them one more time. Maybe they’ll extend the term.”

“I’m not going to do that. My readers will see right through that. I’m always complaining about how bloggers are sell-outs. They’ll lose all respect for me.”

“How much “respect” do they really have for you anyway? You don’t think THEY would sell you out for some free phone service?”

“Never. Brooke maybe. But no one else.”

“Just do it for me. Just write about them one more time.”

Now, as most of you know, “pleasing a woman” is my middle name. So, since most of you didn’t read my story about the donut shop from a few days ago, I’m now going to rewrite it, showing you how much more of a better “experience” it could have been if my Sprint Ambassador Phone had played a bigger role in the story.

THE INFOMERICAL IN THE DONUT SHOP

Near my home is a little independent donut shop. I’ve never seen one person inside other than the owner — a petite, middle-aged, Korean woman. After being woken up in the morning by the alarm on my Sprint Ambassador Phone, I went out to get something to eat. As I was driving, I decided I was in the mood for a donut. I used the Garmain GPS I downloaded onto the Sprint Ambassador Phone to lead me straight to my local donut shop. I went in, ordered a jelly donut and cup of coffee, and sat down at the bright orange, plastic, uncomfortable, table/chair thingamajig that’s bolted to the floor. I used my Sprint Ambassador Phone to read the New York Times and my favorite blogs on Bloglines. The donut and coffee were truly the worst coffee and donut I’ve ever tasted. As I sat eating my disgusting donut, the owner watched some infomercial on a 13″ TV sitting on the counter. I thought about downloading some tunes with my Sprint Phone, but I decided on watching the owner instead.

The infomercial was one of those get-rich-quick schemes:

“Use my stock market technique, and within two weeks, your two thousand will be two hundred thousand!”

As one “success story” after another gave his testimony, I could see the eyes of the donut woman widen. She was totally enraptured by what was being said. I made a voice recording on the Sprint Ambassador Phone reminding me to call the TV network and complain about them showing this type of crap on air, and I used the Sprint Ambassador Phone to email my attorney uncle in San Francisco about taking legal action against them.

I began to feel bad for this woman. She clearly had no talent in making either donuts or coffee. I used the Sprint Ambassador Phone to IM my friend at El Camino Community College to see if there was some type of “refresher course” this woman could take. This woman was probably losing all her money in this awful donut shop. I used the calculator on the Sprint Ambassador Phone to do “the numbers.” It looked bad. And this type of infomercial preys on a woman like this — someone who may be uneducated or part of an immigrant community. It is these innocent people who don’t realize that it is all a scam. I took a photo of the woman with Sprint Ambassador Phone so I would always remember the sad moment, and emailed Sophia a copy.

“I put two thousand dollars into the stock market, and soon I was able to quit my job,” said some overly-eager male voice on the television. “Now I don’t spend time behind a desk, but behind the wheel of my new yacht!”

I felt anger at this scam artist on TV, with this modern era three-card Monte swindle. (is it monte or Monte? I used the dictionary on on my Sprint Ambassador Phone to figure it out). I was so furious that I squeezed my donut with my hand, shooting some jelly onto my shirt and the Sprint Ambassador Phone (but the sturdy plastic is easily cleaned).

What was I to do? I had to warn her. I saw her writing some information on a piece of paper. Was she actually going to call these crooks?

I knew this really wasn’t my business, but I felt it was my duty to speak up. As an American citizen. As a Good Jew. I walked over to the counter. She pointed at the pile of donuts.

“Donut?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” I said. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful with these types of TV shows. They might look like real shows, but they are commercials. Don’t believe everything they tell you. You weren’t thinking of calling them up, were you?”

“Donut?” she asked again, being that it was the only English word she knew.

Luckily, I had my Sprint Ambassador Phone. I contacted Sarah, an Asian-languages professor at UCLA, and downloaded a English-Korean dictionary from the internet. I was able to explain everything to the woman in Korean, who revealed to me that she was about to invest her life savings with this crook. She was so grateful for my help that she offered me free donuts for life. I was honest and told her that her food needed improvement. I told her about this “Donut Shop” course they had at El Camino Community College. We quickly enrolled her online with my Sprint Ambassador Phone, grabbing the last spot in the class.

Meg (the donut owner’s name) now runs a chain of donut stores in Redondo Beach and is a great success. We also became lovers while Sophia was in New York. We send cutesy text messages to each other every day. Thank you Sprint Ambassador Phone. Think what else I could do with six more months of free service!

I Am a Camera

October 1, 2006 / / 59 Comments

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I’ve never been much of a photographer. I honestly think the problem is one of assertiveness. Taking photos of the world around you requires some chutzpah, some “balls.” To take a photo of a stranger, or even a tree requires you to step into the space of someone or something, and “take” an image for yourself. Even the the concept of “shooting” a photo sounds aggressive. This is the same type of anxiety that prevents me from kissing a woman on a first date. It just seems too forward.

Susan Sontag, in her famous book On Photography, wrote “To photograph people is to violate them… It turns people into objects that can be symbolically possessed… Essentially the camera makes everyone a tourist in other people’s reality, and eventually in one’s own.”

For most of my life, I have left the photography for others. My place was always sitting in the corner with a pad and pen. Now I say, “Phooey!” It is time for a change.

Yesterday, I opened up a Flickr account.

Can you believe that I’ve been blogging for over a year and have never investigated your Flickr pages? What fun. I’ve been stalking you all day. There you are! Photos of you. With your friends. With your family. Half-naked. What a treat to see you outside of your blogging lives.

I’ve already added a few of you as “contacts.” Don’t feel obligated to make me your contact. There is nothing of interest on my site as of yet. I don’t even own a digital camera. Can anyone suggest one in the $200 range? I took Alison‘s suggestion and tested a few models for the “feel” of the camera. I definitely like the bulkier ones with the grip.

One camera that clearly struck my imagination was the HP Photosmart R967.

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This model is one of their new models that contains a “slimming feature” (via Big Fat Blog). After taking photo, you can use a slider on the camera to “instantly trim of pounds from the subjects in your photos!”

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Call me old-fashioned, but I always thought the aim of personal photography was to “capture” reality. I even remember learning in art history classes in college that Impressionism and Expressionism were direct reactions to the way photography could better show the real world than a painting. Don’t we expect a photo to somehow reflect reality? Isn’t it going to be weird showing the photos of your size-8 body when you’re standing there holding the photos in your size-14 body? Do you really want people to say to you, “You look wonderful in that photo even though I know it is mostly the camera’s slimming effect and in reality you are twenty-five pounds more! Is this the ultimate solution for our obesity problem — showing photos to each other of us looking thin and making believe it is “reality?” I can understand putting an old photo of yourself on Match.com, since no one really knows you there, but who are you going to be fooling with your slimmer personal photos? Your co-workers? Your mother? Yourself?

And what type of message are we giving our already anorexic-obsessed teenagers?

But who I am to stop modern technology and human vanity? Who doesn’t want to look better on film? I’d be a hypocrite to speak against photographic manipulation. Remember the time I “whitened my teeth” in Photoshop for my profile pic (see sidebar photo)? What’s wrong with wanting to look how you want to look?

With this new attitude, I went over to Circuit City to explore some of the other cameras with new features like that of the HP Photosmart R967. It was an eye-opening experience.

I was greatly impressed with the Canon PowerShot B900 and it’s brand new “colorizing” feature.

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I’ve always thought that black people were much “cooler” than white people. I think that’s why so many white suburban kids love rap and “inner city” fashion. Wouldn’t it be great to show how “cool” you were to your friends — at least on film?

Here I am this morning. Pretty dull, huh?

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Here I am after using the “colorizing” filter!

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And it’s so easy!

The Nikon Coolpix N7 is perfect for the struggling Mommyblogger or Daddyblogger family.

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Don’t you hate it when all you can afford is a cheap vacation to Legoland when your neighbors are taking the whole family to some resort in Maui? With just one click of Canon’s GWC (Great Wall of China) switch, impress your friends and neighbors.

Go from boring Legoland —

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— to a family adventures in the mysterious Orient, right in the camera!

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Finally, many of use our digital cameras for more personal pursuits. On Friday night, I was feeling a little alone, so I decided to email Charming But Single some photos I took of myself that I thought might “arouse” her interest. For some reason, I never heard back from her and she deleted me from her blogroll. But things would have been different if I had owned the exciting new Olympus SE-490.

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This new Olympus contains the trademarked Expando-filter. It is absolutely brilliant. Now you can make any object larger with the click of a button.

Look at this photograph I took on one of my vacations. Nice, but not very impressive.

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1-2-3 and presto!

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With the Olympus, Friday night might have turned out very differently.

Ansel Adams, eat your heart out!

(tonight and tomorrow is Yom Kippur. If you celebrate the holiday, have an easy fast. My Yom Kippur post from last year is here).

Sophia’s Favorite New Technology

September 6, 2006 / / 35 Comments

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I haven’t written too much about it, but I’m pretty nervous about what happens when Sophia returns. Living apart, we were able to live in limbo land. Now that I’m here at her place, it is closer to “make it or break it” time.

Sometimes I wonder if we had kids, whether it would all be easier. We would have some external force keeping us together besides just “love.” Or even if we had some beloved pet that we dote on. The closest we have to a “third party” that we share in is watching “All My Children.”

I’ve written about “All My Children” in the past — about how Sophia turned me onto it. One of our special rituals at home is to take off our clothes, jump into bed together — and watch that day’s AMC on the Tivo.  Of course, as in most things, Sophia controls the remote control.  (editor’s note:  This does not mean sex — we started watching AMC in bed, so it became a tradition.  And the taking off of the clothes is mostly for practical reasons.  Who gets into bed in their dirty clothes?)

Even when we separated, we still spoke every day about the latest dumb plot twist, or just how bad Susan Lucci is as an actress.

While I’m stuck woman-less here in LA, Sophia has a bigger dilemma — how does she keep up with AMC? Her TV has bad reception and she has no access to a VCR.

At first, I tried to describe each episode over the phone, even doing dramatic reenactments of Tad and Dixie.

Tad: Tell me, Dixie, do you kill Doctor Madden?

Dixie: How can you ask me that, Tad? Don’t all the years we were married mean anything to you?

Tad: What about your affair with David Hayward?

Dixie: You drove me into his arms. If only you would have trusted me.

Tad: Blah blah blah (as we see David Hayward standing in the doorway, listening in as every soap opera character always does)

Obviously, my reenactment just wasn’t good enough for Sophia, especially with my New Yawk accent. So, I tried something new to please my demanding wife, much as I used to do in the bedroom a long long time ago. This time, I transferred each episode to my computer then uploaded them to Sophia via the internet. It was a OK idea, but the daily four hour process was not very efficient, and wrecked havoc on my blog reading.

Luckily, modern technology came to the rescue!

Sophia convinced me to get a Hava ($249 online). As they say on their website:

“HAVA is the New Wireless solution for high quality home viewing, multicasting and remote viewing. Watch your TV on a PC anywhere in your house up to 300 feet from your HAVA Box or transmit and watch video anywhere in the world via the internet.”

Basically, you take this small box and plug it it into your TV or Tivo. It then wirelessly sends your TV signal to the internet. The only other thing I had to buy was a faster “G” routers for forty dollars, because my older “B” router couldn’t handle the streaming.

Once it was set-up, Sophia could watch her TV at Redondo Beach on her laptop in Manhattan. All she needed was a password to get access. Even better, she has a virtual “remote control” to do everything she can do here — pause, delete, record, etc.  I can actually sit in Redondo Beach and watch her change the channels from NY!

Sophia must have been so excited playing with the TV because this morning I suddenly saw it jumping by itself from channel to channel, I saw every button on Tivo pressed.  For a second, I forgot about the Hava and thought that a ghost had taken over!

Pretty cool. Does this mean we’re all soon going to be watching “American Idol” in our local Starbucks? Or watching that Yankees game on our TV in Brookyn while in Paris?

After I returned home last night, I called Sophia and was happy to hear that she hadn’t watched “All My Children” yet.  Sophia put on her Hava, then we both took off our clothes, got into our respective beds in different cities, and watched yesterday’s “All My Children” at the exact same time. It was just like being together. Sophia even controlled the remote control.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Dr. Phil’s Son Engaged to Playboy Triplet

Wolfgang Puck Hates My Family

August 11, 2006 / / 41 Comments

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I never had a fantasy about moving to California.  But when I came to Los Angeles, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know anything about the place.  I knew the Chinese Theater.  I knew Burbank from the Tonight Show.  I knew the health food restaurant on Sunset Blvd. where Alvy Singer ate with Annie Hall.  I knew Gidget lived in Malibu, the Brady Bunch lived in the Valley, and the gang from “Three’s Company” lived in Santa Monica.  I knew the Beach Boys liked a girl named “Barbara Ann.”  I knew Ventura Highway.  I knew it never rained in Southern California.  And I knew if you stayed at the Hotel California, you could never leave.

Most of all, I knew celebrity super-chef, Wolfgang Puck.  

After all, I was travelling to Los Angeles to go to film school and become part of the film industry.  And that meant — one day eating at the famed Spago.   I knew in the future, I would walk into Spago with a wannabe model at my side and Wolfgang Puck would run out of the kitchen to greet me.  “Neilochka!” he would shout in his Austrian accent, “Please sit down at YOUR special table right next to Al Pacino!”

Wolfgang Puck represented Los Angeles to me.  He was an icon.  A Hero.  And there’s nothing sadder when you lose faith in a hero, whether it is OJ Simpson, Michael Jackson, or Mel Gibson.  While Wolfgang Puck never committed a heinous crime, he became guilty of something just as bad — overexposure.

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First he became a fixture on the “Today” show.   Then, he opened “Wolfgang Puck Cafes” in malls everywhere, so every Joe Schmoe could make believe he was eating lunch next to Al Pacino.  I can honestly say I ate my worst Italian meal ever in a Wolfgang Puck Cafe in Orange County.

Soon, Wolfgang Puck was invading my local supermarket with his “Wolfgang Puck” soups. 

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At first, I was excited about this soup development.  I’m a huge fan of canned soup.  It is easy to make and usually tastes pretty good.   I have been eating Campbell’s Soup since I was a child.  But as I matured, I started to feel ashamed to bring my Campbell’s Soups “Chicken and Stars” to the checkout girl.  What could be less sophisticated?  Who eats this soup after the fifth grade? 

Luckily, Wolfgang Puck came to the rescue.  His soup had fancy names and a photo of Wolfgang Puck smiling at you right on the label.  Although it was three times more expensive than Campbell’s soup, I could proudly display it in my shopping cart.  And who knows?… maybe women in the supermarket even thought that I was having Al Pacino over for dinner that night!  In a way, buying a Wolfgang Puck soup was like having the real Wolfgang Puck travelling to your home and catering your dinner, much like he caters the Governor’s Ball each year after the Oscar’s.

But then I tasted the soup.  Have you ever tasted a Wolfgang Puck soup?  It  tastes like piss!  It makes Progresso Soups seem like something served at the Four Seasons

Then, my relationship with Wolfgang Puck turned worse.  It turned dangerous.

On our last trip to New York, Sophia and I took the red eye.  When we arrived in Flushing, it was already morning and my mother was at work.  While Sophia unpacked, I started making us some scrambled eggs.  After a few minutes of frying the eggs,  I reached for the handle of the frying pan and — OUCH — almost burnt my skin off.

“Holy Shit! ” I screamed, as I spilled the eggs all over the oven top.

As I jumped around in pain, I noticed a memo stuck on the refrigerator.  It was from my mother.

“Neil:  Be careful.  Wear a cooking glove when using the new pots!”

Later on, I learned the whole story.  My mother had already burnt her hand three times after buying this new set of cookware.

“What kind of shitty cookware did you buy?” I asked.   “What pots have a metal handle that gets so burning hot when you use it?”

“Oh, no, these pots are very good.”  she answered.  (even though they were on sale!)  “They are Wolfgang Puck pots!”

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Wolfgang Puck!!  Now he is hawking cookware!  And some crap from China that he wouldn’t use in a million years!

After this painful incident Sophia, my mother, and I went to the Berkshires for a vacation.  I avoided telling Sophia about the Wolfgang Puck cookware, because I didn’t want to ruin her vacation.  She is a big fan of the Food Network and watches Iron Chef religiously.  I didn’t want her to know the truth about one of America’s most beloved chefs. 

We had a great time in the Berkshires.   Sophia and I got along terrifically.  On our return to New York, things even got romantic between us one night.  We cuddled all night in my childhood bedroom, satisfying my childhood dream of having a hot babe in my bed.

In the morning, I awoke feeling great.  My mother had gone to work.  I could hear Sophia in the kitchen.  I smiled.  Maybe she is making me a special breakfast in bed.  Suddenly, I remembered!  She didn’t know the true horror of Wolfgang Puck cookware.  I tossed the sheets aside, and, still naked, ran into the kitchen.

“Sophia, STOP!” I screamed.

But it was too late. 

“Holy SHIT!” I heard her yell in agony as my mother’s Wolfgang Puck frying pan came crashing to the floor.

Wolfgang Puck, enough!  Leave my family alone!

 

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  My First Piece of Erotica!

 

A Croc of a Post

July 18, 2006 / / 87 Comments

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My blog editor burst into my office, fear on her face.

“Are you trying to destroy your blog?” screamed Sophia. “The blog we’ve been working so hard to build into an empire?!”

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Look at your last couple of posts.  First you encouraged women to write pornographic comments on your posts.”

“Big deal. So we lost a couple of prudes.”

“Then you practically called all your French-born readers a bunch of anti-Semites.”

“Yeah, they can stick some Freedom Fries up their ***!”

“You need to start writing some positive feel-good material.”

“I wrote yesterday about how wonderful you were in your gig on NBC’s “Windfall.”

“And look what happened? Your site crashed for half the day. No one read the post for twelve hours!”

“I’m sure those who missed it are going to go back and read it today.”

“Whom are you kidding? NO ONE ever goes back and reads a day-old post.”

As a former amateur child magician, I am always prepared with a trick.

“Uh… say… uh… hey… how about we go buy you some new shoes?” I said with a smile.

“Shoes?”

“Yes. Some Crocs.”

“Crocs?”

“Yes, I hear that they are the most comfortable shoes around. All the women are talking about it.”

“Since when do you know about women’s shoes?”

“Come on, let’s go buy a pair!”

“OK…”

(And they say you never learn anything by reading blogs)

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At the pool. (via giddygoon)
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At her wedding. (via ashlover)
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On male soldier in Afghanistan (via violinsoldier)

 

A Year Ago On Citizen of the Month: Sue Me

Neilochka Sez: Boycott the Fashion Industry!

May 15, 2006 / / 98 Comments

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AP Newswire — Neil “Neilochka” Kramer, a popular blogger from Los Angeles, and a well-known advocate for women’s issues (despite him being a red-meat eating hetereosexual), has called for a boycott of many of the top fashion designers and most exclusive boutiques.

“A few days after writing my post on stereotypes against “fat” people, I went shopping for a Mother’s Day gift for my mother-in-law,” said Mr. Kramer.  

My mother-in-law is size 18-20, and as usual, it was impossible to find any nice clothes for her.  When I got home, I did some Googling on the fashion industry.  It immediately became clear to me that most fashion designers and popular boutiques do not want their fashions to be worn by anyone over size 12.  Even the popular H&M in New York doesn’t carry any large sizes. 

I think there can be a strong argument that these companies are involved in discrimination.  These fashion designers and boutiques are involved in an apartheid system, making everyone over size 12 a second-class citizen.  I say it is time for the female consumer to take back control.  I am going to start keeping a list of every designer and boutique that ignores larger sizes.  This list will contain some of biggest names in fashion.   I suggest that women refuse to shop in these stores or wear a designer’s clothes until the companies change their discriminatory practices against larger sized women.  I know most women are caring and supportive of each other, and will be glad to show support for their heavier friends.”

Some female bloggers were surprisingly unsupportive.  

“Not wear Dolce & Gabbana?” asked Joan, a Cleveland mother who writes the blog, “The Daily Fashionista. “Is Neilochka crazy?”

Other female bloggers just quietly dropped him from their blogroll.

There is a long tradition of the billion dollar fashion industry catering to what it considers the “thin” elite.   According to the Washington Post, H&M discontinued carrying larger sizes after being publicly scolded by fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld.

“Chanel designer Karl Lagerfeld complained publicly that in a much-hyped collaboration, the company had manufactured his line in larger sizes. “What I created was fashion for slim, slender people,” he was quoted as saying.

The designer’s recent book, “The Karl Lagerfeld Diet,” encourages readers to subsist on raw vegetables, curiously named “protein sachets,” and little else — ostensibly with the goal of looking like the emaciated Lagerfeld himself, who pared his 5-foot-11 frame by 80 pounds on the plan.

Lagerfeld’s motivation? Not health, as he freely admits in the book’s introduction, but the desire to fit into designer clothes.

If you’re H&M, [industry analyst] Cohen asked, which is more important to the image of your brand: your association with Karl Lagerfeld or serving this market?”

Mr. Kramer thinks it is attitudes like those of Mr. Lagerfeld that have made this an important issue. 

“I really think this boycott idea could work,” insists the defiant Mr. Kramer.  “Look what’s going on in Georgia.  When women come together, they can be powerful.”

Mr. Kramer refers to the current protest going on at the Augusta National Golf Club, where Bill Payne, the new chair, has stated that he will uphold the all-male club’s practice of denying membership to women.  

“It was these women’s organizations that led the 2003 protest against the Masters Golf Tournament, and caused CBS to broadcast the event without corporate sponsorship for two years in a row.” 

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Currently, these same organizations are trying to raise public awareness of companies who sponsor the Masters or whose CEOs maintain their Augusta memberships, which violates their companies’ anti-discrimination policies.

Mr. Kramer is anxious to speak with these women.

“I am trying to reach members of National Council of Women’s Organizations and the Feminist Majority and tell them about my boycott idea, said Mr. Kramer.  “If anyone could get this off the ground, it is these committed women.   My argument to them is simple:  The NCWO and the Feminist Majority consider male-only golfing as a way of keeping the old boy’s network alive.  I believe that a lack of shopping opportunities prevents large women from building important friendships with thin assoicates.”

So far, no one from these women’s organizations has returned Mr. Kramer’s calls. 

A spokeswoman from the Feminist Majority, however, told the New York Times that, “Most of our members have strong opinions on the fashion industry.  We call for the elimination of all fur products and the abolishment of the sweatshop.  But really, when you work hard to look thin, you want to dress nice.  Most of our members are not going to shop at Walmart with the fatties.”

Name Changes: I Now Live In Blogosphere Estates

April 17, 2006 / / 25 Comments

1)  My Favorite Cereal

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I was walking down "aisle 10" in Ralph’s Supermarket today to buy my usual healthy, but cardboard-tasting "high-fiber" cereal, when I started reminiscing about the sugar-high cereals of my youth:  Lucky Charms, Trix, Frosted Flakes, and my all time favorite — Sugar Pops — or Sugar Corn Pops, depending on what year you started eating them.  I used to love those bright yellow crunchy bits of sugar that somehow were related to "wholesome corn" and kept their crunch quite well, unlike the wimpy and soggy Rice Krispies.   

My current supermarket had many cereals on sale, almost too many, and there was a whole section devoted just to Kellogg’s products.  But when I saw the familiar yellow box, I was quite surprised to learn that Sugar Pops were not called Sugar Pops anymore.  No.  Now, they are just called Pops.  The word "Pops" was written in some pseudo-graffiti font and there was some sort of promotion going on for snowboarding.  This was obviously a Sugar Pops for a new generation.   But are parents so stupid to think that Pops are any healthier than the Sugar Pops they used to eat, just because Kellogg’s dropped the "Sugar" from the name?

Maybe Sugar Pops are more successful nowadays as just Pops.  Changing names can be a powerful illusion, like changing Kentucky Fried Chicken to the heart-healthy KFC.

2)  Real Estate

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When I was growing up in Flushing, there was a housing project across the street.  The residents were mostly those on welfare and other federal assistance programs.   While it was a noble idea in principle, it was a nightmare for the neighborhood.   The crime rate zoomed, and women were frequently attacked walking the streets.  After a few years, there was so much community uproar about "the projects," that they were closed down.  A few months later, they were taken over by a private company, quickly painted over, and renamed "Georgetown Mews."   My friends and I always joked about this, as if this ultra-pretentious name somehow transformed this ugly complex into something sophisticated.

With real estate so hot, I see this type of "naming" used all the time.   For instance, on the way to Palm Springs recently, I noticed what used to be an empty lot in a god-forsaken desert area between LA and Palm Springs.  Now, it has been transformed into "Rawhide Ranch," as if any actual horse wouldn’t immediately drop dead in the area’s 120 degree heat. 

New York and San Francisco have always been very successful in turning a rundown part of the city into some hip enclave.  Step one:  promote the area with some cool name like Tribeca, Soho, DUMBO, etc.  Los Angeles is now getting into the game by "trying to trick hipsters into leasing Skid Row lofts: the Old Bank District."

Why not?  It works.

3)  Concentration Camps

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Changing your name is frequently a way of hiding your past.  When a company does something illegal, they often come back with a changed name — and a fresh start.  Sometimes a name is associated with a disaster. That’s why after ValuJet crashed in the Florida Everglades, they changed their name to AirTran.  It’s not surprising that Poland even wants to to rename Auschwitz.

"Poland is trying to change the name of Auschwitz concentration camp to emphasize that Nazi Germans, not Poles, were responsible for the most murderous center of the Holocaust.

The government has asked the United Nations to change the name of its World Heritage site from "Auschwitz Concentration Camp" to "the Former Nazi German Concentration Camp of Auschwitz.""

Who’s going to say that mouthful?  I think most people remember that the Nazis were the bad guys.   Name changing is a powerful instrument.  What do you think Poland is trying to forget about it’s own past?

I understand that living in Auschwitz might be a drag.  But, hey, why not just build a Six Flags there so Auschwitz can change its reputation from the "place with a death camp" to a "place for fun?"

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