Sciolism Rocks

Despite my ever advancing years, I am still able to concentrate and hear many of the conversations that take place around me, especially here, in the Caribou Coffee shop that I spend most afternoons in. (reading, writing, and thinking, not barista-ing).

As you can guess, the election is all people seem to talk about these days, especially with North Carolina being (for the first time in my adult life) a contestable race.

Despite all the news and information around, there are still many myths about voting in North Carolina. I hope to dispel a few here. I’ve heard them all in the past five days.

I voted for x, and you voted for y, so our votes cancel each other out. Ridiculous. Two people shouting does not make silence. Even the mathematics of it doesn’t make sense in our voting system.

You have to be a registered Democrat to vote in the NC primaries. North Carolina, despite its recent spate of voting for Republicans in presidential elections, is still a Democrat’s state. Thus local and state elections have a hard time getting a single Republican to run, much less several. Outside of the few metropolitan areas, the Republican primaries are essentially non-existant, thus the myth : much of the decision is in the Democratic (party) primaries.

We’ve only had two Republican Governors since 1900, both in my memory (Jim Holshouser, in 1972, and Jim Martin in 1984 And those were on the heels of vast presidential landslides, with the Republicans winning 49 out of 50 states.) A similar story exists for the Lieutenant Governor, except that neither Nixon nor Reagan could get one in: None since 1900. The NC General Assembly has never been controlled by Republicans (evidence here). Pick a city, look at the mayoral elections : It’s democrats all the way down.

Let me be plain: I’m voting for Obama and can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t. I’ve had his campaign button on every public moment for weeks, along with signs up in my yard and window. But I don’t pretend that supporting a Democrat in general is out of the ordinary. The ideologies and labels have changed in NC like everywhere else, but the party hasn’t. And it’s state and local elections that affect your life. Presidential elections are just more talked about.

Look at the lines at early voting. Thus you’ll wait just as long since you’re voting in the regular election.Again, mathematically this doesn’t make sense. My home county (Wake) has only fifteen early-voting sites, but literally hundreds of actual polling places. I’ve voted in this county all my life, and have never seen a line of more than a few people. Double, triple, or quadruple my experience, and still the wait wouldn’t be more than a few minutes.

I don’t have time to vote. I have to work that day. Among other problems with our voting system, we choose to have it on a Tuesday. Why not on Sunday, when huge numbers of people do not work ? That’s how they do it in France. Wait : maybe that’s the problem. The French only had an 84% turnout in their last presidential election, 87% in the presidential primary.

But even if you have to work, maybe your boss wants you to take an hour off to vote:

I’m doing some research on the early history of French aviation and came across this delightful cartoon (click to enlarge).

The caption says “After Blériot’s flight, how England will defend itself from an aerial attack”. (from Grand-Carteret, John (1909) La conquête de l’air vue par l’image)

The funny thing (to me) is that this cartoon is from just after the super-rich and flamboyant Louis BLÉRIOT made the first successful flight across the English channel. The technology was so new that no one could understand its implications. Or, that in 1909, the air had not actually been conquered. Nor that France’s enemy wasn’t England.

And that giant military-sized bellows and fans arent’ the most effective way to fend of an aerial attack. Unless you’re Wile E. Coyote.

Never count your lives. With my recent move to Publications, I’ve taken stock of the jobs I’ve had in the past. Not just at SAS, mind you, nor those throwaway jobs where you last only a couple of weeks. Real jobs, with real pay checks; jobs that make demarcations in your life. Here at SAS, I’ve mostly been a writer. Before that, I was a teacher, at the high school and college levels. I’ve also been paid as a movie projectionist (which I doubt is a real job anymore), a cooking instructor, a stand-up comedian, a stand-up comedian who got no laughs for several gigs in a row (unintentional), a close-up magician, and perhaps some others that I’m not willing to admit to just yet.

I spent some time this weekend with an old friend from one of those jobs playing Rock Band. For the uninitiated, the game involves staring at a TV screen with a plastic guitar “controller” around your neck, trying to push colored buttons in sync with the little colored chiclets that scroll down the screen, all 3-D-like, in tune with a rock-and-roll song that blasts in the background. After a brief eight to ten hours of this, pizza and adult beverages get involved as you contentedly congratulate yourself on your musical ability.

But I’ve been playing Rock Band guitar for many years, predating this game by more than a decade.

(more…)

…at least when it comes to Error messages on a certain Operating System.

Today, about twenty of my longtime coworkers took me to a local eatery to commemorate (celebrate ?) my long tenure with JMP and my imminent (impending ?) move to SAS Publications.

The establishment, a large mexican restaurant, is in the full throes of breast cancer awareness month ( I assume they are against it). At any rate, there were pink posters, ribbons, tablecloths, paper nacho liners, napkins, and I don’t know what all, completely covering the restaurant.

I am reminded of the scene in “Steel Magnolias” where the inimitable Shirley Maclaine counters Julia Roberts’ wedding colors. Roberts says the colors are “blush” and “bashful”. Maclaine retorts that the colors are “pink” and “pink” and that it looks like the whole church had been hosed down in Pepto Bismol.

Quite the image for a Mexican place. Urp.