Free Speech Ought To Be Free

 

I've heard a lot lately about Twitter and Facebook shutting down opinions they don't like under one guise or another. But I don't spend a lot of time on either sites so whatever.  However, I do like to peruse Yahoo and I really resent that they shut off comments with the bogus excuse of creating a safe space.  It sounds like something Hitler would have said.

If that sounds a little much, I mean the part about Hitler, then know this is how much I despise perfidy in all forms.  And when a communication system like Yahoo, which dictates what stories run and which don't (i.e., anti-Trump versus anti-Biden), then comments are the only way to truly allow free speech.

Which means the editors at Yahoo wouldn't know free speech if it bitch slapped them or bit them in the ass.  Which means they are unqualified for their jobs and need to quit immediately.  That's the dream.

The question is - what are these "big tech" companies so afraid of?  That Americans might actually think for themselves?  That we might just figure out that they're liars and we don't want what they're selling?

I am frustrated but I am optimistic.  I believe that the American people can think for themselves and don't want to be lied to by "Big Brother."  I believe that we will rise up and reject these bastards for who they are and what they represent - the end of the most cherished American value of all.  Free speech didn't earn the number one slot in the Bill of Rights for nothing.  Without free speech we aren't Americans and this isn't America.

I will do my part - speak and think freely.  Join me.  It's free.

Talking in LA

I was recruited, without my approval, to speak to new hires at my company about the role of the dietitian.  I know it would have been so easy to ask "why me?" but I assumed that my dear friend and colleague, also recruited for the same task, put me up for it.  So I swallowed my resentment at being imposed upon to speak in front of people I don't know because I thought I was doing it for a good cause.

Well, wasn't it something to find out today that another dear friend of mine who works for the company  was the one who put me up for this assignment.  I was shocked, actually.  And relieved to know that my colleague, the best of the best and truly dear to me, would never have recommended me for anything without checking first.  

Silly me.  It's been about six months since this "extra" gig began and I've hung onto these feelings of imposition and thankfully, kept my mouth shut.  Just goes to show you - never assume and never hold onto hard feelings.  Lesson learned.

Today, I Voted

It's been a heck of a year so far.  Riots, nightly fireworks, meltdowns.  I live in Los Angeles and on the first night of curfew after George Floyd's death, my car, as well as my son's car, got smashed to smithereens by an idiot speeding down an empty road in front of our house while texting a friend.  Two months shy of owning my car, which was parked at the time, I had it towed away forever and had to start all over again.

That's why it was so important that I vote in person.  I got my ballot in the mail, filled it out and went to the Wiltern Theater on Wilshire to cast my vote via machine.  Because if I learned anything this past year it's not to trust the system and the politicians who run it.  I don't trust the mail system to deliver my ballot and I don't trust auditor to open it and input my choices.  I wanted to push all the buttons and I wanted to send my choices direct to Washington.  

I am disappointed with a media that selectively reports the news, a tech industry that disses alternative opinions and a populace that takes it on the chin.  I want to say it was never like this when I was growing up but I'd only be fooling myself.  Sure, we didn't have facebook and twitter, but we had reporters who tailored the news and selected what we all heard.  But now, in the 21st century, it's just too in my face.  I opted out of facebook when I saw that creep Zuckerberg "perform" before Congress last year.  I don't really twitter because frankly, I don't know how.  Haven't read a newspaper since Conrad trashed Israel daily in the Los Angeles Times.  So what am I missing?

What I'm not missing is being a responsible citizen casting my vote.  It's the antidote for what ailed me.  And what ailed me was my lack of voice.  Come on America.  Take back our voice.  Turn On, Tune In and Tell Big Brother -Big Tech to go to Hell where they belong.  

Speaking of Style and Class. . .

Okay, I admit it.  This is one Orthodox Jewish woman who is crazy about Fran Drescher's The Nanny.  I know it's not politically correct - a Jewish girl who eats bacon, shrimp and lobster while pining away for her non-Jewish boss Mr. Sheffield.


Maybe it's the Yiddish, or the love Fran the Nanny showers on her charges.  Maybe it's Niles and his hilarious battle to the near-death with Miss Babcock.  I don't know.  I can't explain it or justify it.  In practice, she's not a terribly "good" Jew.  And her "mather" - oy vey.  She deserves a whole other post.


I guess what I really love about the show is the innocence of the 1990s.  There was plenty of fakatah nonsense going on then; Reagan and Iran-Contra for example.  But I have fond memories of those days and The Nanny exemplifies the height that Jews as Jews had reached on television.  Fran was never ashamed of being a Jew, never had to explain her love of her people or justify Israel. 


I miss that.  I miss not having to explain how my people aren't Nazis and why we deserve a home of our own.  Thank you Fran.  To me, the Nanny, or Franny, certainly had style and class.  And a lot of love. 

My Son, The Barber

Mazel Tov to my amazing Yitzy for seeing this through and earning his certification from the City of Los Angeles as a barber.  This reminds me of a joke:

The mother of the first Jewish President of the United States was sitting in the front row to watch the inauguration.  A reporter came to her and asked if she was proud of her son.  Her reply: "Yes of course.  But did you know, my other son is a doctor."

Now say this with a New York accent and you've got me telling my friends how proud I am of my son.  Yitzy baby, you rock!!!

I Knew I Parked Too Close

Several dear friends of mine have been talking up a wonderful, wholesale jewelry store in downtown Los Angeles for a long time.  I had to agree - their necklaces were gorgeous.  And inexpensive.  So I decided that since the store was located a few blocks from work, I was going to check it out.

At first, I got lost.  I kinda remembered the street name but I mean, seriously, I didn't believe it could really be that close to work so I was in the left lane when I should have been in the right lane, et al. Just to make sure, I went another 5 blocks until I decided I had indeed missed the street and doubled back.

And there it was.  A parking spot. Right in front of the store.  How is that even possible?  Okay, I took it, thanked G-d and went straight into the store.  Rows and rows of necklaces and earrings - it was paradise.  Then I remembered I hadn't paid for parking and ran out.  Having experienced downtown parking, I expected the meter to give me 3 minutes for 25 cents.  Oh no - it gave me 15 minutes for 25 cents.  I started to believe I was actually dead and this was heaven.  I had change left over.

I spent the next 30 minutes looking for the right necklace(s) and came up with three and a pair of earrings.  No point going crazy the first time out.  Then the not so sweet cashier asked me for my resale number.

My what?  I panicked.  I gave her my friend's name and business.  Nothing.  I wanted to plead with her to let me have the stuff but no, dignity first, deals second.  I called my friend, no answer.  I left the store confused, and sure that I was still very much alive and well, sans amazing necklaces on the cheap.

Well, after my dear friends got wind of my experience and called the manager, it turns out I may not need a resale number after all.  It appears the clerk was a jerk.  So I ask myself: Why did this happen?  What did I learn?  To be patient, keep my cool, accept rejection and move on?

All that and the restoration of my belief in local government's ability to get things done.  Despite the homeless crisis in downtown, on Crocker and 9th Street, downtown Los Angeles, parking is very affordable indeed!

All I Got Was This Lousy. . .

Today is December 26, and for many of us, it's a day off.  Not that I knew that.  I  had to come to work today to find that out.  Whatever.  I finished up some immediate business and then left.  With my bike.

Yes, I'm riding my bike again which means I'm riding the bus again.  Unfortunately, in a city of 10 million people located in a state considered 7th in GNP, the Metro system is 3rd world.  That's because poor people ride the buses here, most of which have limited English speaking skills.  When I'm waiting nearly an hour for a bus my English language skills become limited to . . . think four letters, starting with an F.

So I got back on my bike at 8:05 am this morning and decided to stop at the 99 cents store on the block.  I call that store my happy place.  It's where all my dreams of cheap food and stuff comes true.  Everyday.  Sometimes several times a day.  When I signed up for a "Secret Santa" at my office, I asked for gift cards to the 99 cents store.  I'm into shopping there real deep.

I locked my bike to the front of the store and went inside, for less than 10 minutes. Seriously, it's a holiday.  They didn't get any deliveries and I was there are on Friday.  I needed some sundries and then I was ready for the road.

In less than 5 minutes, my bike was stolen.  Actually, just the frame and the back wheel.  What I didn't realize is that the front tire is quick release and it remained behind, along with my lock.  There's no cameras at the 99 cents store (hard to believe), so I limped my way to the bus stop, sad, mad, using my limited English language skills over and over again, schlepping one wheel, a bike lock and a helmet.

It took over an hour, two trains and one bus to get home.  I can't believe my stupidity, and I can't believe someone could steal what is not theirs.  I know this is a message from G-d, and my bike is a stand in for losing something far more important.  That's how I will console myself.  Those thoughts, and, of course, chocolate.