David Fagin2013-05-25T21:33:11-04:00David Faginhttp://www.news.moviefone.com/author/index.php?author=david-faginCopyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc.HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for David FaginGood old fashioned elbow grease.Iron Man 3: Plenty of Iron, But Still Hopelessly Anemictag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.32836872013-05-16T10:00:50-04:002013-05-16T10:00:54-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/Iron Man trilogy, or, it could've been the preposterous, completely-unbeliveable-even-for-a-fantasy-flick plot. Either way, after receiving praise from two of Hollywood's toughest critics -- my parents -- I decided to check it out. In the end, I've never been so glad it was "Optimum Free Movie Tuesday."
The reason the first Iron Man worked so well, in my opinion, is because even though we knew it was fantasy, the writers did a great job of sticking to reality for the better part of the first half of the movie; A kidnapped, brilliant industrialist is forced to engineer a nuclear weapon and, instead, constructs a suit of armor to defeat his captors. Okay, I can roll with that. Sure, the last half of Iron Man 1 is the usual trusted-friend-turns-on-hero crap, but by that time, we're already drawn in due to the terrific first part.
Fast forward to Iron Man 3 and suddenly, all traces of reality and intelligence have vanished. In its place, we're left with the requisite wall-to-wall explosions, a few well-timed jokes in tense situations, a reference to modern-day terrorism that appears completely forced, and an absolute laugher of a plot: A disabled scientist, who steals a formula to regrow limbs for disabled vets, ends up turning himself, and others, into human fireballs? Seriously?
I know I'm most likely alone in this point of view, as the thing's already grossed over $1 billion, but this ridiculous base for a story completely ruined any hope I had of suspending my disbelief. Even in fantasy. You want me to believe Robert Downey Jr. can build 50 Iron Man outfits, by himself, in his spare time in his "Wii-to-the-tenth-power" home in the Malibu hills? No problemo. But, I'm sorry. I simply cannot allow myself to believe there are all these disabled vets running around exploding. Some who can control it, some who can't, etc. etc. Nuh-uh.
A good part of the reason is directly due to the writers' continuing desire to portray Tony Stark as a 'real guy.' This shameless mixing of metaphors and "crossing of the streams," with regard to the storyline make it even more confusing and zany to watch. Add to that it looked like 98 percent of the movie was green-screened, and it felt like I was watching a high-tech cartoon for most of it.
Let's not forget poor Ben Kingsley. One of the finest actors of our time, whose rolls from Ghandi to villain extraordinaire Don Logan in Sexy Beast more than prove his prowess, has obviously decided to just take the money and run. It made it a little less painful to watch him in this tale of sound and fury that signifies nothing when we are let in on his character's funny little twist, (his role ends up being the only redeeming quality of the entire movie) but still... please, Ben... I beg of you; no more Hollywood blockbusters, okay? You're so much better than that.
Let's not even talk about the fact that Gwenyth Paltrow's character, Pepper Potts, is captured and apparently administered this deadly serum for what appears to be a good portion of the afternoon, yet somehow she doesn't blow up and is able to use it for good. And, then is put back to normal.
It's not exactly news that movies have come to the point where a script is just something agents use to stick under the wobbly table leg at Spago. Nor, is it news the studios' only concerns these days are the effects and the stars -- case in point, Will Smith appears to be on track to break the world record for "Movies made about the end of the world," but, c'mon people, at least pick one direction and stick with it.
Considering all the superheros, sequels, and special effects taking up 80 percent of our theaters these days, it's a miracle Daniel Day Lewis and Helen Mirren haven't applied for food stamps.]]>We're Not Worthy! My Journey From Skeptical Cynic to New York's Head Cheerleader for Boston's Recoverytag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.31892112013-05-01T10:03:59-04:002013-05-01T10:40:55-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
"I'm absolutely sick from all this awful marathon coverage. You're a musician. You need to write a song for those people and what they're going through."
My initial reaction was to blow her off. Amidst a dozen or so other seemingly valid reasons for ignoring her request, the thought of being perceived as a "faker" looking to glom onto this unfortunate event didn't sit too well with me, either. So, I appeased her with a boilerplate, "Sure, mom. Okay, I'll try," then hung up and went back to watching Bridezillas.
But, it was no use. The seed had been planted and it kept stirring around in my head. Of course, the negative thoughts came, too. Anything for my lazy ass to try and find an excuse not to do it.
The excuses ranged from;
"I can't just sit down and write a song. Songwriting takes time."
"Even if I did, it will probably suck anyway, as I'm lousy at communicating my feelings."
"I haven't written anything in ages. I'm way too rusty."
And last but not least, the most logical:
"That's all I need. To become one of the masses of the soon-to-be-growing, cheesy, over-the-top bleeding hearts on the Internet."
Nonetheless, whilst thinking of "me, me, me" as it usually does, the voice in my head suddenly pulled a deliberate, screeching U-turn:
"You went to Emerson, so you have many friends in the Boston area."
"Both your grandfather and uncle were cops. Imagine what it was/is like for the police, fire, and emergency workers -- what they must've gone through these past few days -- not to mention the victims."
"If you can reach just a few of them and help them get through whatever it is they're going through, perhaps it would be worth it. Besides, what else are you going to do? Sit on your ass all day, instead?"
After both sides made their closing arguments, I decided I would at least try. I happened to be listening to Richard Branson's audiobook Screw it, Let's Do It at the time and thus, with Sir Richard's voice (or at least his narrator's voice) egging me on, I stood up, went to my guitar case, took out my guitar... and, out-it-came.
Literally, the song just flowed right out of me. I stood in the middle of my living room in complete shock. I've been writing songs for the better part of twenty years and I can't remember ever having a melody and lyrics just "appear," as if I was playing a song already written. As I sang the lyrics to myself for the first time while watching CNN, I gave myself chills -- another thing that doesn't happen too often. Something's going on here and it's obviously beyond my control.
My first call was to my friend Jaime, a 9/11 first responder and heck of a piano player. I asked him if he was interested in collaborating on a song for the people of Boston. Without hesitation, Jaime immediately agreed and so we sat at his piano and began fine tuning the piece. From there, we laid down an awful sounding demo -- as good as he is a pianist, that's how bad an engineer Jaime is -- which I sent to my folks. Since my mom was the inspiration, they deserved to hear whatever this thing was we were working on. They loved it, in spite of the quality, but thought it was too slow. "Speed it up, Junior" my dad quipped. At which point, he sent the demo back to me sped up exponentially to where my voice resembled the shrilling end of Rock Lobster. But I got the point. I increased the tempo a bit and played it again. I was energized. Thanks, dad.
In just a few short hours, I went from sitting on the couch scratchin' my butt to a man on a mission; the song was telling me it was time to get serious. It wasn't satisfied with a simple iPhone recording and a shout-out on YouTube. Like the Audrey ll in Little Shop of Horrors, this thing wanted to be fed. So, feed it we did.
That evening Jaime and I called on our friend and producer, Dan McLoughlin, owner of Garden Street Music, an awesome music school/recording studio in Hoboken. But, as this was obviously a time sensitive issue, the question was whether or not Dan would have time available the very next morning to engineer and record us? He did. Apparently, there was a last minute cancellation and the day was open. Fate? who knows?
Less than 24 hours later, Jaime, Dan and I sat in the control room and listened back to what we had done. It sounded amazing. The fact that we wrote, recorded, arranged and mixed "Boston Strong," top to bottom, in a day was pretty incredible to each of us sitting there. My friend Jocelyn dropped by and 30 seconds in, her jaw dropped and her eyes began to fill with water. Her reaction confirmed we nailed it. We were quite proud of ourselves. What's even more incredible is, as I listen to it now, a week later, I don't want to change a thing.
Coming home that night, the first thing I did was set the song to pictures. The photos of the tragedy of the bombings, the resilience of the rescuers, and the eventual dramatic capture of the terrorist brothers in Watertown made an emotional piece of music that much more gripping. I posted the link to my Facebook page and went to sleep.
The next morning there were dozens of comments on my page telling me what a great job we did. My friends began autonomously sharing the link on their pages. My folks flipped out. My girlfriend flipped out. They sent the link to all their friends and they flipped out. I know people sometimes say "Good job!" when they're trying to be nice or neutral, but this was genuine gratitude pouring fourth from people everywhere.
I sent the link to the Watertown Police and received the amazing response below:
Dear David:
I just want to tell you how much I love your song. I had tears streaming down my face and goosebumps and shivers when I first heard it. For me personally it touches my heart and soul. I arrived at the scene shortly after 1:40 a.m. on Friday and was one of the first officers at the boat scene on Franklin st. At 5:30 p.m. on Friday I talked to my three boys on the phone wishing them a good night and told each one of them that I love them. Who knew a half hour later id have bullets going by my face. No words can truly describe what I have seen and what I have experienced. I am truly blessed.
Thank you again,
Officer Kathleen Donohue, Watertown P.D.
If that heartfelt message had been the only one I received, it would have been worth it. But, then came emails from other police officers and firefighters and even the governor, himself...
Dear David,
Great song. Thanks so much for your message and good thoughts. We are shocked and wounded, but resilient. Knowing that you and so many others around the world are standing with us helps.
With thanks,
Deval Patrick
What was happening here? A song I came this-close to not writing was suddenly touching so many people in so many ways. In all my years of writing song after song after song, never has a piece of music done what this one did, and is doing. I still can't believe it as I type this.
It became obvious to Jaime and I fairly quickly that we could use this song as a potential way to raise money for the people whose lives were changed forever on that fateful day. "Why don't we post the song on iTunes and donate the proceeds to Onefund.org?" I said.
This way, if there are folks out there who can't afford a $50 or $100 donation, but who like the song, they can download it and actually take part in contributing to help someone in their recovery. Not to mention, 20 million people vote for their favorite "Idol" or "Nashville Star," every week, so, even if just one percent of them spend the same dollar on this song, we'd raise over $200k dollars for the victim's and their families.
Suddenly, I realized, in just 48 hours I'd gone from a guy who was afraid to be seen as a hanger-on to a motivated force that believed, if people hear this song, the sky's the limit. Even if we only raised ten dollars it would still be a worthwhile endeavor.
With the goal now being to use the song as a way to help financially, as well as emotionally, I realized we'd better get this track mastered so it sounds as good as it possibly can. My band had used Ted Jensen, arguably the finest mastering engineer in the music business, in the past to master a few of our records, but it had been years since we spoke, and I was in no position to afford him. Nonetheless, I took a shot and emailed his assistant the track and told her what the goal was. Minutes later, she emailed me back saying Ted had agreed to master the song, no charge. Amazing gesture number 1.
As I was about to upload our Little Song That Could to iTunes myself, I got a call from my attorney who said that he'd spoken with Dave Zierler, the president of Ingrooves -- one of the largest distribution companies in the U.S. -- and that they would be willing to step in and pick the song up for nationwide distribution. Amazing gesture number 2.
From there, Tim Westergren, CEO of Pandora, emails and says they're going to add "Boston Strong" as soon as it hits iTunes. Amazing gesture number three.
Just minutes later, I get an email from Tara Darrow, public affairs director for Nordstrom's, informing me she heard Boston Strong, loves it, and is going to be adding it to their in-store music rotation. "A.G." number 4.
As all this was going on, my parents and everyone else were nagging at me constantly, saying; "You HAVE to get this song out there. People have to hear this."
Rather than go door to door, we thought the best way in this day and age to let a lot of people know about something, is with a press release. Neither Jaime, nor I were crazy about the idea of writing our own press release, not to mention spending hundreds of dollars more on top of what we'd already spent, but, the voices kept telling us to get it out there. So we did. And, for all intents and purposes, it flopped.
Out of about 5,000 potential press outlets, only the Sacramento Bee, Broadway World, and the Wall Street Journal Online picked up the story (as an added bonus, the Journal even managed to include non-working hyperlinks).
Why, did no one pick up on this song that was getting such amazing feedback? Simple. Because, by now, several days had passed and dozens of the bandwagoners had come out with their versions of "Boston Strong," as well. Whereas, just two days prior, had you Googled Boston Strong song you would've found one other besides ours. Now, there were more than 20. Add to that some artists were already playing their versions on CNN during the day, and you can see the window was closing fast.
But, that was and is okay with us. The song has done way more than I ever thought it would already and I'm just blown away from the responses from the people it has reached through friends and family sharing the link.
However, the dud of a press release was not entirely a dud.
Amazing gesture number 5, and the one that prompted me to write the story behind this song, is, from basically out of nowhere, I get a call from the Mets' publicist telling me the team heard about what we were doing, that they've been looking for people in the New York area who've been making an effort to help the people in Boston, and they have selected us to be the recipients of the Citibank Outstanding Teammates in the Community award. I was/am still in shock. Me? An outstanding member of the community? I just wrote a song. But, apparently, to a lot of people, it's more than that.
Thus, come this Tuesday night, the Mets and Citibank will be presenting Jaime and me with the award before the game and they will play the song on the jumbotron for the entire stadium. We are both blown away by such an honor.
I guess, in the end, if this is the end or the middle, or whatever, it's okay to be one of the 20 or so artists out there with a song for the people of Boston. Sure, there will always be a few 'freeloaders' -- like those guys who tried to trademark the "Boston Strong" phrase -- but, ultimately, we're artists. And, that's how we communicate. And, while not every song will be a winner, each one hopefully comes from the same place ours did, and that's all that matters.
To purchase "Boston Strong" on iTunes click here.]]>When Looking for Work, Simply Applying for a Job Can Be a Job in Itselftag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.28728722013-03-14T14:28:55-04:002013-05-14T05:12:01-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
Being reduced to a one-sheet and having to search through countless classifieds, for weeks or months on end, trying to figure out what you're qualified to do and how to make yourself sound more skilled and educated than you really are, is a process we all dread.
Yet we've all been there and we're all going to be there at some point in our lives. Alas, when you finally find the one job you think might be perfect for you, the starting salary is so low you may as well grab a cup and a sign and drag your butt down to the intersection.
The amazing thing is, with all the technology at our disposal, and the myriad of tools/sites that claim to make the application process easier -- e.g. LinkedIn, Facebook, Monster, etc. -- it seems the very act of applying for a job is still one of the biggest pain-in-the-ass-wastes-of-time there is.
You'd think by now someone would have developed a way to enter ALL your pertinent data with one click of a button, but despite all the services out there, at the moment, that doesn't seem to be the case.
Perusing a few of the bigger job sites in the past 48 hours, I was astonished at how ridiculous the application process gets for some of these companies. Even with the helpful assistance of LinkedIn filling out some of the required fields, it still took me upwards of 15-20 minutes to apply for a single job.
For instance, Taleo, a human resource company which was bought last year by Oracle for just under $2 billion, and which is one of the main sites you're redirected to when clicking the "Apply Now" button on Indeed and Monster, creates a bit of a nightmare for the user even when using a site like LinkedIn to auto-fill your data.
For starters, there's the little things: like your home address and making you scroll all the way down, through every-single-country-in-the-world, until you come to "United States." Seriously, folks, is that really necessary? How many people do you know that live in Afghanistan or Albania who are thinking of applying for a job at the Guggenheim?
Then, there are the countless boxes under each job title: Starting Salary, Ending Salary, Bonuses Earned (seriously?), Reason for Leaving, etc. If you've got five jobs listed over the past 15 years on your profile, you're going to have a heck of a lot of boxes to fill in.
Some sites ask your expected salary range and don't even let you type "Neg." in the box. There's nothing more frustrating on earth than having spent the past ten minutes filling in all these 'required' boxes, only to hit 'submit' and being zapped back to the beginning.
One of the more increasingly frustrating sites I found goes as far as asking you to create not one, not two, but four security questions. Obviously, in case you forget the answers to the other three.
1. Where were you born?
2. What's your favorite food?
3. What's the name of your best friend? (If you don't have any friends, you're a loser and shouldn't apply to work here)
4. What color underwear am I wearing?
And what's up with the Secret Service-type passwords these sites make you enter just to apply for a lousy job you won't even last six months at?
"Password must be 8 letters in length and must contain at least 1 capital letter, 1 character of your choosing from #$%^& and one chemical symbol from the Greek table of elements."
Do they really think a hacker is going to give a crap about the fact your last job was at Denny's? And what's with making you register all over again every single time you apply to a different company? Are you really going to come back? After applying for a job, have you ever in your life decided you needed to re-access the company's website for the sheer thrill of it? No. You simply either get a reply in your inbox or you don't.
The most egregious violation I came across when applying for a job was a site that made you jump through all the hoops the other ones do, but also asks for your Social Security number! Are they nuts?! What in the world would you need my SS# for when applying to be a men's room attendant? You already asked me 15 questions pertaining to the legality of my citizenship, so, surely we must be okay in that department?
Here's another tip: If you're thinking of applying for a job at CBS, Inc., better bring some Red Bull. By the time you're through scrolling through their 17-point "Terms of Use" manifesto, you won't even remember why you're there. The fine print is so long, there's even a Table of Contents at the beginning. The best part is, they insist that you spend what would no doubt be the next hour or two reading these terms before using their website. Can you say "Room full of paranoid lawyers?"
Even Indeed.com, one of the biggest job sites around, knows this whole thing is a joke, as they offer links to select jobs which literally scream out "Easily Apply for This Job!" proving they're well aware how completely f$cked the entire process is.
I'm no expert on cloud computing, and maybe there is a site out there that currently exists that can enter all your info, for everything across the board, without having to register you every time you switch to a new application, but I haven't come across it.
For now, if you're thinking about applying for a job, the best thing to do is just suck it up and take whatever abuse you're currently enduring at whatever job you're presently at. Let the higher-ups insult and ridicule you all they want and stop complaining. Trust me, it could be worse. You could be sitting home in your boxers, spending six hours uploading pictures of your kids just to work at Subway.]]>SNL Pulls Off Epic Star Reunion as Writers Let Another One Get Awaytag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.28499802013-03-11T03:23:56-04:002013-05-10T05:12:01-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
No one likes a wasted moment; not a guy watching his girl walk away, thinking about what he should've said and done, or, as in this past weekend's star-studded Saturday Night Live episode, not the viewers of a legendary comedy show who were teased with early cameos from more than a half-dozen of the show's funniest performers, ever -- most of whom we barely saw again. What followed were quite a few potentially great moments that never saw the light of day, and left at least some of us out there wondering, What if?
First, don't get me wrong: managing to get an all-star cast of some of the biggest egos in Hollywood to share an 8x10 stage for a simple five-minute sketch in this day and age is no easy task. So, you have to give it up to Lorne Michaels and co. for convincing Paul Simon, Steve Martin, Chevy Chase, Dan Aykroyd, Martin Short, Alec Baldwin, Tom Hanks, and Candice Bergen to support host Justin Timberlake in his opening monologue when the modern day Dean Martin took the reigns of the legendary late-night show for the fifth time.
The star-studded opening was enough to cause the nine cigar-chomping, beer-drinking guys I was playing poker with to actually freeze an "All-In" raise, mid-hand, in order to watch it as it happened. And, aside from Paul Simon obviously needing a shot of Red Bull, and Chevy Chase's slurred and garbled speech -- causing us to worry if the legendary actor had recently suffered some sort of stroke, it was definitely a "Wow!" moment on a show that's come to be known for it's star-studded surprises over the years (e.g., Pesci and Deniro, Madonna, etc.).
However, aside from a few minor chuckles here and there, in my humble opinion, the rest of the show succeeded in joining the infinite number of episodes before it as falling way short of it's expected potential. Especially, considering the opportunities presented it in the form of those iconic cameos. I mean, how do you have that much talent together at once on a sketch comedy show and hardly make use of any of them for the remainder of the evening? Furthermore, when working the one's you do decide to use into the show, how do you not let them take center stage?
Case in point, I strongly disagree with Screencrush's glowing review of the show, particularly of Martin and Aykroyd's revival of the hormone-riddled, ladies' men, the Festrunk Brothers.
Sure, it was great to see them again in any setting. But, these two "Wild and Crazy Guys!" are arguably two of the most popular characters in SNL history, yet, what do the writers do with them? They stick the priceless tandem of Martin and Aykroyd into a corny and mediocre "Dating Game" parody alongside the "Dick in the Box" guys.
We all know and love the song performed by Andy Samberg and Timberlake, but, rather than have two legendary performers playing second fiddle to an almost decade-old joke, one in which we pick up the brothers right where we left off, why not shake things up a bit and give them their own skit that shows where they are now, and let Martin and Aykroyd explore a bit?
Who knows? Maybe they were offered and had no time to rehearse? But, there's no question, with just a bit more effort, the return of the Wild and Crazy Guys! could have been a lot funnier than a few quips in a dating booth. Obviously, I'm not a writer for SNL (thank God) but what if, for instance, 30 years later, the two "swinging" brothers were now counselors on A&E's Intervention, having been through rehab and found Jesus? Or, perhaps they could have been dot com millionaires and founders of Girls Gone Wild and Crazy! and engaged in a massive lawsuit with their nephew, Girls Gone Wild! creator, Joe Francis; birth name, Joe Festrunk. Timberlake could have portrayed Francis and the writers could've used the recent bankruptcy surrounding the one-time billionaire's company as fodder for the skit.
The two aforementioned ideas may suck, but, when you have two of late-night comedy's most legendary performers at your disposal, a duo who, for all intents and purposes, may never perform together on that stage again, and you put forth an effort that makes it look like you phoned it in, it makes one sigh with exasperation over what could have been. Not to mention, it was hard to watch a pleasantly plump Aykroyd jiggle around in the outfit that once represented the epitome of studliness and now makes him look silly.
Then, there was "Nuva Bling," the ghetto fabulous birth control for your vajayjay. This wasn't funny at all. It was scary. Because, at any moment, an ad like that could easily appear on any show the Kardashians star in. What might have made it funny to the over-25 demographic, is if Candice Bergen endorsed this product like she did with Cie. Or, am I just too old and bitter?
"Veganville" was yet another excuse to get Timberake into a Gumby outfit for the 14th time and have him dance around. No doubt, his Nerf costumes are always guaranteed laughs. But, since Steve Martin acknowledged Joey Fatone, Timberlake's former 'N Sync compadre, during the opening, why not get him to go up against the five-time host in the now-classic dance-off scene? You can't tell me Tom Hanks was free but Joey Fatone wasn't.
And, after the "Festrunk Brothers," "Dick in a Box guys," and rehashed "Nerf Dancing Guy," if the theme was indeed paying tribute to classic characters, where was Alec Baldwin as Pete Schweddy? Perhaps, in the spirit of things, he would have been up for a go at it with Timberlake playing his son, Pete Schweddy, Jr., hawking their new Schweddy Buns had a script been sent his way.
And, finally, "Weekend Update" with no Chevy Chase? Whose fault was that? Everyone I was watching with thought for sure, "Chevy's gonna do the news!" Nope. Not even a cameo.
Who knows? Maybe most of these guys really do hate each other, or Lorne Michaels for that matter, or had someplace they needed to be for the next 85 minutes until reappearing for the finale? If not, as interesting as the show was, it sure seemed like a lot of untapped talent and wasted potential.
And, for myself, who grew up watching this show back when I would pretend to be asleep and keep the T.V. low enough so the folks couldn't hear, but loud enough so I could catch "Emily Litella" or "The Coneheads" or "Land Shark" or "Samurai T.V. Repair Man." I can't help but feel, if, during the show, all that talent was, in fact, just sitting in the green room drinking coffee and twiddling their thumbs, the ghosts of the "Not Ready For Prime Time Players" must certainly feel the current crop of SNL writers are simply not ready for prime time.]]>Why Doesn't The Academy Have Separate Categories for Kids/Adults?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.27252412013-02-21T08:08:47-05:002013-04-23T05:12:01-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/Grammys announced the removal of dozens of theirs.
And, the Oscars are no different. Odds are, a category like 'Best Portuguese Accent by a Filipino Grandmother in a Dress' doesn't stand much of a chance of being added to this year's ballot. Not even if a mob of Filipino grandmothers picket the offices of the Academy of Motion Pictures and raise such hell, the legendary telecast's Latino advertisers threaten to pull out.
Thus, even though we're probably not going to see mobs of child actors picketing any time soon, and there's little chance their managers and agents give a crap, I would raise the question:
Is it really necessary for awards shows to force a nine year-old kid to square-off against an 85 year-old adult?
Pomp, circumstance, and tradition aside, it just doesn't make a lot of sense. No matter how talented the adorable Quvenzhané Wallis is, should she really be competing against Emmanuelle Riva for the same award? These are two human beings at opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to their craft. One is just beginning. The other, in her twilight. And, it's not fair to either.
Forget about what it might do to the psyche of a young child should he/she lose out. What about what it does to the already-fragile ego of an established actor/actress who, quite possibly, spent the best years of his/her life eating ketchup and mustard sandwiches in a roach infested apartment, only to lose to an actor who, just months ago, was still wetting the bed? No doubt, it probably adds an extra element of "WTF!" to the dejection and embarrassment of the thespian who's dedicated the past 6 or 7 decades to the sole pursuit of honing his/her craft.
So, why not save everyone the anguish, and create a Best Actor/Actress Under 12? Or, better yet, a "You Must Be 'This' Tall to Win This Award" category? Anything would be better than the way it is now.
Granted, you don't want to turn the Oscars into the Kids' Choice Awards, but there has to be a better way than putting Meryl Streep and the e-Trade baby in the same category.]]>Sean Connery to Democrats: "What Are You Prepared To Do About It?!"tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.26917712013-02-15T02:45:20-05:002013-04-16T05:12:01-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/The Untouchables, Sean Connery's character, the tough and gritty beat cop, Jim Malone, asks Kevin Costner's character, Eliot Ness, what he's prepared to do to catch infamous Chicago mob boss, Al Capone -- insinuating it's going to take more than a badge and a gun to bring this particular crook to justice, because he will stop at nothing to make sure he's the most feared, and the most powerful, crime boss in Chicago.
Right about now, there are visions dancing in my head of a wounded and bloody Chris Matthews, reaching up and grabbing Senate Majority leader Harry Reid, and uttering those same words. Because, let's face it; at this point, there's no denying it.
The Republicans will stop at nothing to embarrass the president and the Democrats, and squash any legitimate attempt to move us forward -- even if it means embarrassing themselves in the process, i.e., leaving the country without a Secretary of Defense during a time of war just to prove a point.
As if their dirty, disrespectful, and downright infantile tactics over the past half-decade weren't enough, the GOP stooped even lower. Their immature -- and historically unprecedented -- blocking of the confirmation of Sen. Hagel for Secretary of Defense, should give even the most timid of Democrats all the proof they need to recognize what they're dealing with here: a group of men and women who, without a doubt, would collectively throw their own children in front of a pack of speeding cars if they saw an opportunity to accuse President Obama of driving all of them at once.
I realize calling a member of the GOP "rational" in this day and age is like calling Paris Hilton a humanitarian; nonetheless, having just done what they did, and having gone about it in such an organized and calculated manner, any rational human being would unquestionably be ashamed of his/herself. Especially, when doing it on the world stage. But, of course, not this batch. No way. This collection of rocket scientists wear their ignorance, inflexibility, and desire for disruption at any cost, as a badge of honor.
Thus, at this point, in all seriousness, the only question, Mr. Reid, is, "What are you prepared to do about it?!"
Are you going to sit back, in true democratic fashion, and crawl back into your hole? Letting the Republican machine work you over like Ali in his prime? Or, like the parent of a five-year-old who's clearly demonstrated he's far too immature and irresponsible to play with his new toy, are you going to take it away?
The Republicans don't deserve your 'deals' and attempts at compromise, Mr. Reid. Not anymore. They took advantage of your good faith gesture and promise not to change the filibuster rules, and sh%t all over it. Now, it's time for the gloves to come off.
It's time for the majority leader in the Senate to take immediate action and change the rules -- amending the 60 votes needed for a filibuster to 55. Thereby, taking the Republicans 'favorite toy' away from them. Time after time, they've gone out of their way to demonstrate, beyond the shadow of a doubt, they can not be trusted with it. So, ground them, Mr. Reid.
It's also time to listen to Congressman Alan Grayson (D) of Florida, who, for some time now, has been passing around a petition to do just that.
It's time to show these untouchable Republican hacks that they are, in fact, 'touchable.'
Having this many jokers in positions of power on the Hill, willing to do almost anything to display it, one thing's become perfectly clear; This Congress truly is a House of Cards.]]>Hoboken's Dirty Little Secret: A Friendly Warning to Those Thinking of Buying/Renting in Sinatra's Backyardtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.25874082013-02-07T12:21:37-05:002013-04-09T05:12:01-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
I had a few friends living in 'the 'boken' and they kept telling me how great it was; the cool shops, the restaurants, the proximity to Manhattan, the relaxed atmosphere, etc. etc., so, I decided to make the move. I had no idea the noise and insanity I thought I was escaping by moving to Sinatra's birthplace would be increased, tenfold.
I ended up fleeing for my life from my first dwelling -a downtown, warehouse-style loft on the Hoboken/Jersey City border -- in less than two years, due to the fact it was directly across from the Light Rail -- NJ Transit's local commuter train, which happens to arrive only every five minutes.
Aside from the fact the never-ending line of trucks heading to Manhattan at six in the morning belch as loud as dying buffalo, it turns out, if you simply want to venture out in your car, it will easily take you upwards of 10 minutes just to cross the street. This was/is due to the fact that the half-dozen horrifically coordinated traffic signals are never green at the same time. Thus, it often creates legendary, unnecessary back-ups. (If you think Manhattan gridlock is bad, you should see this tiny, jam-packed, four-square-block radius near Newark St. and Observer Hwy. at rush hour.)
The psychological ramifications of this particular type of torture are actually worse than your average tunnel or bridge traffic, because you're so close to home: Imagine sitting in your car, day after day, less than a hundred yards from your building, and you just can't get there. Each day, thousands of people who, under normal circumstances, are probably as nice as the next guy, turn into Charles Manson. To a man, we would easily run over a group of baby bunnies if it meant beating the light and avoiding the wait. I, personally, ran so many red lights, if there was any type of camera, I'd be writing this from death row.
As annoying and frustrating as my first place turned out to be, my second apartment -- this time, uptown -- would end up forcing me to become inadvertently acquainted w/ the mayor, several city hall bureaucrats, waste disposal companies, the Department of Public Works, the condo board and management team of my new building, and many more excitingly vibrant individuals.
Here's a free tip to anyone thinking of moving here that could very well save you an infinite number of sleepless nights:
Make sure, when looking at apartments, you ask what time -- and, more precisely, where -- the garbage pick-up is. Had I followed this simple rule, I wouldn't be addicted to Ambien.
Just days after moving into my new place, I was awoken at 3 a.m. to the sound of smashing glass and the ridiculously loud, and repetitive, "Beep!" of a garbage truck going in reverse -- BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! SMASH! CRASH! THUD!
This middle-of-the-night three ring circus lasted over 15 minutes, to which, I immediately inquired of my landlord, "Um, Hi, Jason. Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. Um, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"
I was duly informed that, in Hoboken, the garbage pick-up occurs from the hours of 11 p.m. to 4.a.m. This is apparently due to the fact that the town wants to keep the streets clear for commuters, both, in the morning, as well as at night. He then told me, to my sheer horror, this unconscionable intrusion happens six nights a week! Great.
I'm sorry, but, I've lived all over Manhattan; in every borough from Brooklyn to Queens; in Long Island; and, I've never encountered a city that schedules garbage pick up six out of seven days a week. Not even in the grungiest, most industrial sections of Greenpoint. It would be inconvenient enough if it was once or twice a week, but, six nights? Seriously?
After months of walking around with bags under my eyes, I went as far as to ambush Mayor Zimmer during a town hall meeting and ask her, why, in God's name, can't the town reschedule its garbage pick-up to take place during the day? Again, I got the 'morning rush' story, after which, I conveyed to her my sympathies in not wanting to clog the streets for commuters. But, I also let her know there's two major problems with that theory:
1. The morning rush in Hoboken only lasts from 7 a.m.-10 a.m. After that, the city is a ghost town, with regards to traffic for the next five or six hours. You could let a baby crawl down Washington Street and it would emerge unscathed.
2. There are a dozen schools in Hoboken, all of which close their streets to traffic in the middle of the day to allow for gathering kids. Are the cars that travel in those areas at that time of day stuck in gridlock forever? No. They simply drive one block farther and continue on their way. That's the beauty of Hoboken. If one street is blocked, you simply take the next one.
So, what's worse? Walking up half the neighborhood at 4 in the morning? Or, a few commuters encountering the occasional garbage truck on a side street some random afternoons?
The mayor assured me she was going to "look into it." That was two months ago. At this point, I'd have better luck waiting outside the white house for a photo op of Boehner and Obama arm in arm, than I would getting the mayor to seriously examine this situation.
We all know how difficult it is to get bureaucrats to move on issues that have become 'status quo,' but, I 'refuse' to believe the city of Hoboken can't change its insane overnight garbage routine to occur between the hours of 10 a.m.-3 p.m. It's not like they're being asked to elevate the Path train to accommodate those passengers with a fear of water.
Not to mention, when you consider, most residents are now forking over Manhattan-level rents, a decent night's sleep certainly doesn't seem a lot to ask.
So, for you prospective buyers and renters out there thinking of abandoning big city life for a quieter existence in the 'suburbs' just across the pond, make sure you understand, Hoboken is now just as urban as New York, if not more so. I'd even go as far as saying it's "New York from concentrate."
Especially if you take the garbage problem, and add to it the nightmare that is parking, the potholes that make each street seem like you're driving on the moon, the toxic waste clean-up sites that make the air smell like the worst part of the turnpike, the all-day rumbling of bulldozers, slamming of pile-drivers, and riveting of jackhammers from the thousand or so new developments going up on any given day, and, odds are, you'll feel like you never left midtown.
It's truly daunting to see Ole Blue Eyes' birthplace, which, just a few years ago, was mainly quaint brownstones and overcrowded bars, turn into post-war Iraq in front of my very eyes.
I've learned my lesson, though. This time, when my lease expires, I'm picking up shop and moving to a much quieter place. Downtown Damascus.
(For a glimpse at the overnight garbage pick-up, clickhere)]]>Friday Night Lights Turns Into Sunday Afternoon Blackouttag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.26134252013-02-04T09:30:54-05:002013-04-06T05:12:01-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/went dark for over half an hour, and the Baltimore Ravens had a 22-point lead over the San Francisco 49ers, there were many theories flying through the social media landscape as to what caused it:
One was that the NFL was punking the viewers, and when the lights were turned back on, each respective Harbaugh brother would have ended up switching clothes and changing teams. Just to see if each could take the reverse role and win from the other side with a new team and half a game left.
Another was that the NIners, not wanting to see the beating continue, bribed stadium officials in order to use the 'von Trapp' method of escape by disappearing off the field, one by one, ne'er having to face the media or the horror of the second half.
However, when the lights came back on 34 minutes later, and a new, revitalized, almost possessed San Francisco team scored 17 unanswered points in just over four minutes, it began to seem as if the niners owed Energy New Orleans, the power company which maintains the Superdome, the MVP trophy. Should things continue to progress the way they seemed to be going, San Francisco was looking at winning a Super Bowl in which, at one point, they trailed by over 20 points. Suddenly, instead of thinking about what they wanted for dinner, the Niners were now thinking about a possible record breaking night.
In retrospect, how can anyone say the outage on the field didn't play a definite part in the swinging of momentum -- from the Ravens' side to San Francisco's? Sure, most of it rests with plays made- or not made -- on the field. But something definitely happened tonight.
And, odds are, it would've worked, too, had the 49ers not run a last minute drive that ended with a series of four of the most horrifically awful play calls you will ever see from a team just bursting with grade-A momentum, who, with their genie still in control, beat all the odds and were just five yards away from a Super Bowl victory for them and their genie in a bottle. Until their offensive coordinator decided to close up shop sixty seconds early.
Strange twists of fate can only take you so far. Ultimately, you have to close the deal.
Just look at the "Heidi Game" in 1968 -- the match-up between bitter rivals Oakland Raiders and N.Y. Jets, in which, the Jets were winning big as NBC cut away with just over a minute to play, and left the entire east coast watching the movie Heidi, while everyone on the west coast got to see the Raiders pull off one of the most amazingly improbable comebacks to win.
The Raiders weren't aware of what was going on but it didn't matter. That change in the current of the wind, the pent up energy of all those executives in the control room about to lose their job, manifested itself into some unforeseen set of circumstances for the Raiders. They got the job done. They closed the deal.
During the "Super Sunday Blackout," no one missed a play, but another electrically-charged mishap seemed to play a part in the momentum of the game, leaving the Ravens' sideline empty and returning to revitalize the lackluster 49ers. In other words, they got yo mojo.
Although you can't put your finger on it, it certainly appears there's definitely something connected between the human beings freaking out in the control room decades ago, and the kinetic energy of human beings freaking out on each other, this time on a national stage, that made tonight such an unusual event. That unharnessed energy, from both person and circuit box, merged, then reappeared, repackaged and re-purposed, as 5-hour ENERGY Drink Maxx for a team that, by all accounts, seemed completely out of steam.
Whatever went on there last night, whether fate or the electricity or maybe a combination of both played a part in changing the game's outcome. Two things are certain:
1. Apparently, it was Beyonce's sex appeal -- set way too hi, on 'hyperdrive' -- that blew the circuits directly after the half-time show.
2. Energy New Orleans said they can send someone out Thursday between the hours of 12-4pm to fix it, but you know they won't get there 'til at least 5.]]>Opening Pandora's Box; Why Congress and the Music Industry will Ruin Internet Radio - Againtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.24593962013-01-16T11:56:29-05:002013-03-18T05:12:01-04:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/Copyright Hearings on Capitol Hill.
These days, I'm so "out of the loop," I'm lucky if I recognize the band headlining the Mercury Lounge on a Saturday night. But, back then, I was a crusader.
The issue in '01, was the major record labels were attempting to wrap their greedy little paws around the neck of this fledgling technology called Internet Radio.
The way they sought to do this was by asking congress to force these new stations -- most of which were owned by bigger companies such as AOL and Yahoo -- to pay a fee that would be retroactive for every day since they began broadcasting online. This was the equivalent of NBC, CBS, and ABC knocking on your door and telling you, "For every day you've watched our network since it's been on, you owe us $5.00. Each."
Obviously, a fine like that would be in the billions, and would, no doubt, wipe you out. And, that's exactly what the R.I.A.A. (the Recording Industry Association of America) -- the D.C.-based lobbying group that represents the major labels -- was trying to do when it went after the webcasters the first time.
Luckily, it did not succeed. And, as we now know, the Small Webcasters Settlement Act of 2002, followed closely by the Copyright Royalty and Distribution Reform Act of 2004, drastically lowered the fees broadcasters would pay to stream music online, thereby opening the floodgates for dozens of new Internet radio stations, allowing them to flourish and grow, and today, there are so many successful ones, we can hardly count them all. But, let's try, shall we?
Look around today, and one can't help but wonder if the R.I.A.A., and its cohorts, were, in fact, successful in their quest to keep Internet radio down for the count.
What else is there, really? After these so-called 'reasonable royalty rates' were handed down, so, too, were the majority of Internet stations, themselves. Microsoft, Yahoo and AOL all headed for the hills and sold their stations to the highest bidder, like CBS, etc.
At present, probably the only other relevant online radio station out there is Spotify. But, they're not even a U.S. company. They originated in Sweden, and, when all is said and done, can only claim one-fifth the listening audience of Pandora.
Compared to a decade ago, there are now hundreds, if not thousands, of online businesses geared toward every type of cyber-experience you can think of: shopping, dating, traveling, gossiping, buying a car, paying your bills, dining out, socializing, etc., etc.
So, why aren't there more well-known online radio stations, you ask?
Well, for starters, it seems when it comes to music, and the artists who make it, Congress is totally out to lunch, -- and have been, for some time. The Copyright Royalty Board that was established to oversee this hotly contested potato is constantly passing, then months later, amending, so many bills dealing with how and what monies are paid to artists, not even the shrewdest copyright attorneys can figure out what's going on from one minute to the next.
If nothing else, they should at least start referring to these ever-changing laws more honestly. Such as:
The Webcaster Settlement Act of Five o'clock (This bill is to amend and overwrite the previously passed Webcaster Settlement Act of Four o'clock, and shall serve as final governance with regard to the question of Internet royalties. Until tomorrow.)
All these different laws being passed every five minutes has done nothing but lead to massive instability, constant squabbling and overall uncertainty regarding the future of online music. After all, who would want to invest in any business if the laws surrounding its 'franchise fees' changed with the seasons?
"Today, you owe $1,000. Tomorrow, it may be $10,000. And, see those guys over there? They're special, so, they're exempt. Even though they're essentially doing the same exact thing as you. Now, pay up."
Considering this joke of a business model, it's a miracle there's any online music at all.
Because of this ridiculousness, it's come to the point where the folks at Pandora, once again, find themselves squarely behind the eight-ball; having to sponsor yet another piece of legislation to try and stabilize, for just a little while, this tremendously unequal playing field.
And, it is this issue, which now sees independent artists virtually biting the only real hand that feeds them, that has woken me from my multi-year slumber and caught my attention.
This latest bill, The Internet Radio Fairness Act, which is backed by Rep. Darrell Issa (R-Calif.), Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.), and Rep. Jared Polis (D-Colo.), seeks to reduce the royalty rate Pandora, and other online broadcasters, currently pay to artists. Due to the bill's controversial objective, it's become the catalyst for artists, both mainstream and indie, as well as industry backers like the R.I.A.A., to join forces and lash out at Pandora, claiming the online broadcasting service is seeking to take the 'measly' tenth of a penny artists currently receive per play, and lower it. Something which Pandora does not dispute. They do, however, insist nowhere in their legislation are they attempting to lower the rate by 85 percent, something which groups like the musicFirst coalition claim they are.
Pandora's argument -- at least one of them -- is that this tenth of a cent eventually adds up to over a quarter billion dollars a year. More than half of their total revenue. Meanwhile, they point out satellite broadcaster Sirius/XM paid out less than 10 percent of theirs. And FM... nothing.
Why does terrestrial radio pay nothing? Because, way back before the invention of the Internet, when George Washington was chopping down cherry trees, it was agreed upon by the powers-that-be that radio was a "promotional tool" for record companies, and thus, should be exempt from having to compensate the artists and the labels it was helping promote.
That kind of logic may have flown when Farrah Fawcett was hot and Merv Griffin was the number one late-night talk show. Nowadays, when you hear guys like Bruce T. Reese, spokesman for the National Association of Broadcasters, sit before the House Subcommittee and say, with a completely straight face,
"What makes broadcast radio so successful is the local flavor of our programming, which forges a unique connection with listeners in a way that other media do not,"
it's all you can do not to crack up. That is, unless, by 'local flavor,' he's referring to the computers, which have all-but-replaced live disc jockeys, and which play the same 10 generic artists over and over again.
In the past three-plus decades, if a Program Director, in any major market, was 'caught' spinning a local artist in daytime rotation, he/she would be making cow pies on a ranch in Greenland faster than you can say, "Ridiculous Advertising Dollars Instead of Originality." On this, I speak from personal experience.
Back in '96, my band, The Rosenbergs, won K-Rock New York's "Best Unsigned Band" competition and were 24hrs. away from being put into a coveted daytime rotation spot. This obviously would have exposed us to tens of thousands of new fans. However, when the station manager got wind of this "insane" contest, the P.D. was immediately fired and the contest scrapped. We did get a nice set of steak knives, though.
Back to the issue at hand;
When it comes to The War on Pandora, we can sit here all day arguing over all the main sticking points of this current piece of proposed legislation:
Pandora may pay a higher percentage than Sirius, but Sirius pays1.00 per subscriber. So, 'Nyah!'
A 'Willing Buyer-Willing Seller' market is a better way to determine royalty rates than the "artist-destroying" conditions Pandora wants implemented.
Just like everyone else, Pandora's just another greedy company run by greedy executives at the top.
etc., etc. etc.
Spend a few days -- or weeks -- reading up on all the mud being slung back and forth at the moment, and you'll realize the real problem here is not artists being "stiffed" by Pandora. Or, Pandora being "greedy." The problem is,= terrestrial radio.
In fact, after speaking with the folks atSoundExchange (the lone organization responsible for collecting digital royalties), as well as renown copyright attorney, Ann Chaitovitz -- both of whom are opposed to the I.R.F.A. --, then discussing the issues with Joe Kennedy (CEO) and Tim Westergren (Chief Strategy Officer) of Pandora, both of whom support the act, it seems to me, when you take a step back, both sides are actually on the same side:
Both sides want to see artists get paid.
Both sides want independent artists to succeed.
And, both sides think the massive, corporate-owned FM stations being able to avoid paying a dime in performance royalties, while everyone else has to mortgage the farm just to survive, is ludicrous.
To give you an idea of how completely bizarre this whole situation is, when I asked Marie Farrar Knowles, SoundExchange Vice-President of Communications, what their alternative to the I.R.F.A. would be, she replied, at no fault of her own, "I don't know."
With regard to the "fleecing of artists" allegations, in my own opinion, from my more than hour-long conversation with Messrs. Kennedy and Westergren, and speaking not as a journalist, but an independent artist, I would not hesitate in trying to assure every artist out there that Pandora is not trying to 'rip them off' when it comes to royalties.
In fact, if you think about it, that argument makes no sense, whatsoever. Why would a company, whose main business model consists of promoting independent artists over 60 percent of the time, and is practically the only place to hear new music on a regular basis, want to destroy the very artists whose careers it's sustaining, and who are sustaining it?
I can also assure you, as much as they'd like to think they do, no multi-platinum, Grammy-winning artist, such as a Rhianna or a Missy Elliot or a Maroon5, give a rat's ass about what happens to an indie band from Harrisburg, P.A. If you think they do, call Don Henley and tell him you want to come over to discuss the finer points of the bill.
Nonetheless, as with any over-complicated mess, there's usually a simple solution. And, in this case, it's no different: End the one-sided, unfair exemption terrestrial radio currently enjoys, and make them pay their fair share of performance royalties to artists and labels -- just as the rest of the radio-playing world has to do.
A few years back, Ms. Chaitovitz penned an informative article for The Huffington Post illustrating the reasons FM stations should absolutely begin paying a performance royalty to artists. She astutely pointed out, the song, "Respect," would never have been the classic it is without Aretha Franklin's amazing vocals. Yet, she's never gotten a dime in performance compensation from FM or AM radio.
So, why hasn't this happened already? It's simple: Pandora tried once two years ago and realized, quite quickly, Congress is scared to go after big radio and their lobby, and the R.I.A.A. is 'just fine' with the status quo. In the meantime, both sides have decided to just kick each other's asses, instead.
The situation as a whole, is very much like a wealthy plantation owner watching two of his prized Mandingo slaves fight to the death, while he sits back and looks on with arrogant amusement.
Whatever happens with this particular bill, if artists, artists' reps, and the online broadcasters that support them, can't come together and focus their energy on the real enemy, in a few short years, the only 'royalty' we'll be talking about will be when referring to the Kings of the mega-companies that rule all the airwaves; both online and terrestrial.
(A modified version of the I.R.F.A. is expected to be introduced before Congress sometime before the end of this year.) ]]>You Never Really Know How You Feel About Guns Until the Chips Are Downtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.23086432012-12-20T13:49:26-05:002013-02-19T05:12:01-05:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
Poor Piers Morgan almost came to blows with a guest from the gun lobby on his show, and, as much as I agreed with him, I wondered if Mr. Morgan ever had the immediate need for a firearm?
I know the issue at hand is not about banning hand guns, but for me, personally, I've always taken the hard-line when it comes to gun ownership, of any kind: Get rid of 'em all.
Ever since the moment I heard that Lennon was shot, I've been 100 percent for gun control. In fact, I'm for taking every gun out of the hands of everyone, everywhere; hand guns, semis, assault rifles, shotguns, water guns, etc., etc. But, we all know there's a better chance of a Muslim being elected president than there is an America without guns.
However, I recently had an experience which forced me to re-evaluate my harsh stance on gun ownership, in general. The entire experience lasted only about five or ten seconds, but it felt like half an hour:
Because I live on a high floor in a building with several hundred units, and because I know from experience the locks on our front doors are almost impenetrable -- even to a locksmith -- I sometimes leave the door to my apartment unlocked and, occasionally, forget to lock it at night.
As it happens, one night a few weeks back, at four in the morning, I was awoken to the sound of what I thought was someone jiggling my front door handle. At first, I thought I was dreaming, because about five seconds passed and all was quiet.
As I lay there in my bed, alone, looking into the kitchen and about to put my head down and go back to sleep, the door begins to open -- slowly -- and the light from the hallway penetrates the darkness.
The moment was surreal; like something out of a Hitchcock film. Little photons of light spread like fireflies across the perfect, comforting blackness that surrounds me... and, extinguishes it. And, in extinguishing it, the unwanted light opens a metaphorical door that hurls me into a horror movie in which I'm now the star.
You may think I'm exaggerating, but, I assure you, I'm not. if something like this has never happened to you, I cannot begin to convey what it feels like to be totally helpless in the middle of the night and see an intruder entering your home.
It's amazing how many millions of thoughts run through your head in the span of less than a second;
Is it the wind? Where are we, Kansas?
Is it my landlord? He would know better.
Is it a family member? They would've called first.
Maybe it's my girlfriend? Please, let it be my girlfriend. Nope. She's out of the country.
Your brain pretty much runs through the entire Rolodex of absurd possibilities in a fraction of a second, and quickly alerts you and your nervous system, there's definitely an unknown intruder entering the premises.
From there, it's sheer confusion, terror and self-preservation. Especially when you realize you're not dreaming, and the large, round shadow you see moving across your floor is for real.
The next thing I see from the unobstructed view of my still-dark bedroom, is a size 15 work boot take a step into my kitchen. The other one follows. Yup. As crazy and ridiculously random as it is, my eyes confirm to my brain there's a large, possibly dangerous person standing in my kitchen.
What to do next? Do I run out and confront him and possibly get stabbed or shot? I'm in my underwear and there's no time for shoes, socks or sweats, so, before I have to make the choice to defend myself, and possibly attack this intruder before he attacks me, I muster-up my toughest voice possible and yell from my bed --
"WHAT THE FUCKKKK?????!!!! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU??!!!!!!"
In that moment, I could've probably scared the Terminator away, and it must've brought this guy back to reality because, as slow as he entered -- albeit with a very matter-of-fact (as if he just accidentally took my newspaper on the bus), "Oh. Sorry," -- he bolted out the door.
After what seemed like an eternity sitting there trying to discern if what just happened really happened, I got up and bolt-locked the door, with extra enthusiasm.
When I came back to earth, I surmised this idiot was probably drunk and on the wrong floor, and was going by memory where his apartment was. But, who really knows what the heck he was thinking? And, as I couldn't see his face in the dark and he couldn't see mine, if we ever pass in the hall sometime in the days to come, we'll never know how much we truly scared each other. And, as freaked as I may have gotten him, I think he won that contest, hands down.
The main thought that was running through my head the entire time this event was unfolding was, "I could really use a gun right about now." I mean, what was I going to do? Throw a sock at him? Use my iPhone as a weapon? I guess if they had a Shotgun app, which, when activated, makes the "Chik!-Chik!" sound as if you're loading a rifle, it could've worked.
I realized one thing pretty quickly, though: Trying to call 911 was a near impossibility.
In normal circumstances, when we take our phones to bed with us, most of us will have trouble locating them if they start ringing in the dark. Even if we know exactly where we put them on the nightstand, we sometimes still fumble around. Try reaching for your cell phone in the dark sometime, under duress. Then, after you grab it, try and find the Home button to bring it to life, then try and slide the bar across the screen to unlock it, then try and push your Phone icon, then push the Keypad icon, then, finally, dial 911. If you're not dead yet, and you haven't accidentally speed-dialed Domino's, I'd be amazed.
This crazy experience has taught me three things:
1. You never know how you'll react in any situation until the chips are down. And, in cases of self-defense, it definitely helps to have a gun nearby. But, a gun that fires only 6 shots should be more than enough. There's still no good reason to own an Uzi. No matter where you live, you'll never keep an Uzi under your pillow or in your nightstand.
2. Even though I was scared shitless, and my thoughts about gun ownership, in general, have been altered because of it, I still will probably never own a gun -- at least, not while living in Hoboken. And, not unless I move to a remote part of Montana; and then, we'll see.
and,
3. My take on the NRA has not moved an inch. With children being gunned down in schools, in malls, and in movie theaters -- to the point where a CNN anchor actually comments, "When the shooting starts, kids usually run and hide in the closets," as if this sort of thing happens every week, it can't get any worse.
So, regardless of issues of self-defense, why not err on the side of safety and make it harder for anyone to purchase a weapon? Why not include voluntary hospitalization as red flags in background checks? Why not be better parents, politicians, and psychologists?
No matter what Congress does with the guns, the sad reality is, after Newtown, there's no doubt, the country we live in is changed forever.
Back in the day, our parents prepared for attacks by the Russians. Our kids prepare for attacks from other kids. And, how do you fix that?]]>It's Time We Occupied Well Street: The Incomprehensible Defeat of Prop. 37tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.22611772012-12-12T08:41:12-05:002013-02-11T05:12:01-05:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
Sure, this is the state that also voted down gay marriage, so, it's probably fair to say a good majority of Californians are still in the Dark Ages. But, when you're talking about agriculture, and the state that accounts for nearly three times as many organic farms as any other -- and one in Fresno County that, alone, more than doubles the crop production of the entire state of South Dakota, Prop. 37's demise came as quite a surprise.
So, What Happened?
Why, when a dozen different polls leading up to the election show 96 percent of Americans overwhelmingly support the labeling of foods which contain GMOs; Why, when nationally respected health practitioners, such as Dr. Oz, devote entire segments of their programs to the dangers of GMOs; and, Why, when there's now enough evidence to link GMOs to everything from tumors to birth defects, so much so, that even Russia forbids importing U.S.-grown corn, would the state that considers itself the Foundation of Organic Farming say, "No, thanks"?
After a bit of digging, it appears the answer is the answer to almost every question involving politics since the beginning of time: money.
- It's the money that was spent on the incredibly successful disinformation campaign by Monsanto, DuPont, and the rest of the bio-tech community. Going as far as using focus groups to make sure the confusion sets in.
- It's the money you thought it was going to cost you to buy one of these honestly-labeled products once they hit the shelves.
- And, it's the money you thought it was going to cost you, as a taxpayer, due to all the lawsuits that would "inevitably" be flying back and forth between the state legislature and the bio-tech giants.
Monsanto's attempt at convincing Californians the bill was full of holes was so good, even an incredibly well-informed friend of mine in the food business, who voted against the bill, commented, "...and there's even a provision to fine companies that don't use organic fertilizer."
Had he taken the time to read the bill for himself (it's only about four pages), he would have discovered that what he was told was false. But, that's exactly what these companies count on; people being too busy to get the facts for themselves, so, we'll just keep repeating it over and over, on TV, in newspapers, and online, until it becomes fact.
Speaking of newspapers, some voters claimed they didn't vote "yes" on the bill simply because the major publications didn't support the cause, thus, there must've been something wrong with it. This sentiment is echoed by Prop. 37's creator, Jeffrey Smith, who confirmed, "We couldn't get the executive boards of the big papers to meet with any of the bill's supporters for even five minutes, due to the pressure put on them by the advertising machine."
Of course, there was nothing to stop the proponents of the bill from putting up their dough as well, but, that's where we run into the other problem:
The bio-tech industry outspent the organic industry nearly 10 to 1. With Monsanto, alone, doubling the contributions of Prop. 37's top 10 supporters, combined.
Traitors to the Cause?
While the little guys were running themselves ragged trying to scrape together a few hundred G's, the big dogs were busy writing massive checks for tens of millions of dollars. It clearly wasn't a fair fight. Especially when you consider some of the world's biggest natural foods brands were accused of treason.
Kashi, Naked, Silk, Odwalla, Morning Star, Horizon Organic, Ben and Jerry's, Smuckers, etc., all market themselves as leaders on the organic front, yet, all are owned by huge conglomerates such as Pepsi and General Mills. Ben and Jerry's may support labeling, but they couldn't do a thing to stop their parent company, Lever Bros., from donating millions to the other side.
Whole Foods, the nation's largest organic supermarket chain, came under severe criticism, not only for rallying the troops too late, but also for advertising "Nothing Artificial. Ever.," then being thrown in the spotlight for selling GMO-tainted foods.
According to Libba Letton, Whole Foods Director of Media Relations, "No supermarket in the country is 100 percent GMO-free. We do our best to encourage farmers to go organic every chance we get."
When asked, then, why the Nothing Artificial sign still hangs outside each store, she replied, "That's a good question."
Even Dr. Oz, the defender of all things healthy, was lambasted for flip-flopping under the pressure put on him by Monsanto, which, was the supposed reason for his recent Time Magazine article touting the benefits of buying cheaper frozen or canned foods (the article is subscription protected).
Tim Sullivan, spokesperson for the Dr. Oz Show, assured me:
Dr. Oz has never changed his position on his support for GMO labeling. He is 100 percent for it. The Time Magazine article was written purely as a way to help families realize there are some cheaper, yet, perhaps just as healthy ways to eat if you can't afford the higher prices of organic foods.
He added, "At no time has Monsanto ever approached or attempted to influence the doctor's decision on GMOs."
All well and good. Except while the good doctor's article successfully pointed out the similar nutritional benefits between organic and non-organic foods, it failed to mention the myriad of damaging pesticides and toxins used to grow, harvest, and preserve these non-organic options.
But, Organic Food Is Too Expensive for Me
The main reason organic foods cost more to produce, at this point in time, is because the government sees the majority of us continuing to opt for the traditional choices, as opposed to the healthier ones. Thus, until we show them our disdain for these cheaply-produced, highly toxic products, we will continue to experience higher priced organics, due to the virtually unsubsidized costs to cultivate them.
The easiest way to change this is to vote with your dollar. Show them organic fruits and vegetables are not "specialty foods," and thus, should be removed from the a la carte menu, by spending a few extra pennies on them. You'll not only be keeping yourself and your family healthier, you'll be sending your own, personalized "text message" to Washington.
The "Monsanto Clause"
Even though many of us are completely aware of what's going on behind the scenes in the agricultural game, the bio-tech industry, and, more to the point, Monsanto, still manages to control us like puppets on a string. Of course, it helps to have a little help from your friends. Here's a look at just a few highlights over the past few years:
Oct. 2004- Good ole "W." keeps his friends at Monsanto happy by suppressing reports that prove a contamination link between GMO-tainted corn and the naturally grown variety.
June 2009 - Definitive evidence is found linking polyethoxylated tallowamine (wha?), the main ingredient in Monsanto's herbicide, Roundup, to the death of human tissue cells -- particularly in fetuses. More than 100 million pounds of this garbage is used every year.
Even Obama isn't out of their grasp.
Jan. 2010 - The president creates a brand-spankin' new position for his buddy, former Monsanto V.P., Michael Taylor, specifically designed to put him smack in the middle of the food lobby. By making this hypocrite the Deputy Commissioner for Foods (whatever that is), Obama succeeds in carrying on the tradition of letting the wolf guard the henhouse. This one appointment could arguably have the most damaging effect on the future of our food. But, believe it or not, the anti-GMO movement is happy about this appointment because, according to Jeffrey Smith, "everything he says and does can be proven wrong in 30 seconds."
Last but not least:
Feb. 2012 - More than 300,000 farmers sue Monsanto in direct response to the thousands of lawsuits filed against them claiming they infringed on the company's GMO seed patents when the breeze blew the seeds onto their lands from neighboring farms. They lost.
What the Heck Is Wrong With Us?
The hardest thing to comprehend in all of this is that food is not a "partisan" issue. It's not about black or white, rich or poor, Democrat or Republican. No matter what side of the fence you're on, on any issue, everyone needs to eat. Yet, here we are, facing a chemically-treated and cancer-filled future, thanks, in equal measure, to the lack of protection from our government and our willingness to let it all happen. If it does, we will have no one to blame but ourselves.
If you disagree, ask yourself why, when our economy was in danger, did tens of thousands take to the streets, in dozens of cities nationwide, furiously protesting the big banks -- yet, when it comes to the comically corrupt laws and politicians who are supposed to protect our food and guard the safety of the things we feed our children, and when the threat of having almost everything we eat being altered by corporate genetic modification looms large, not a single soul marches on Capitol Hill, or anywhere else for that matter. That, and more than 12,000 McDonald's, 7,500 Pizza Huts, and 2,600 Papa John's restaurants should give you an idea of where our priorities lie as a nation. Heck, even the Europeans are banning this stuff, and they still don't think cigarettes are bad for you.
Holy Hats. Is There Any Good News?
The good news is, in spite of organic farmers receiving only $50 million in subsidies, compared to the $164 billion received by the industrial farm industry each year, and, in spite of governments policies toward farming remaining virtually unchanged since the Great Depression, public sentiment is actually changing. People are getting pissed off. Everywhere.
Case in point, just because 300,000 American Farmers didn't succeed in their bid to stop Monsanto and its ridiculously powerful patents, doesn't mean 5 million Brazilian farmers won't give it a try.
The more you Google "GMO," the more links you can find attempting to uncover what Big Brother doesn't want you see. Every story you click on offers you 10 new pages of information about how screwed up our agricultural system is -- both organically, as well as financially -- and what we can do to fix it. Spend just a half-hour reading about it, and your browser window will have more open tabs than a ladies Rotary Club luncheon in the '70s.
As far as Prop. 37 goes, its unfortunate defeat is not without benefit. In death, it seems the bio-tech industry has given the non-GMO movement almost Obi-Wan Kenobi-like status.
Nearly 30 states are preparing ballot initiatives for 2013.
In this past election, San Juan County, Wa., voted to take it upon itself and ban the planting of GMO seeds.
And, even though he's retiring, congressman Dennis Kucinich's brilliant rant against the FDA and Monsanto shows there are some politicians who care about changing the system.
Don't Count Us Out, Just Yet, Fellas
If one were to boil this oppressive situation down to a schoolyard fight, it would be the 300-pound bully against the 98-pound weakling. However, don't count the nerd out just yet. That pair of brass knuckles he's hiding, in the form of popular opinion, social media campaigns, and free choice at the check-out counter, is gonna pack a wallop in the days to come.
Alas, for now, this Christmas, our chimneys, stockings, and stomachs will have little choice but to be filled with the goodies from Monsanto Claus.
For a list of GMO-tainted foods to avoid visit www.nongmoshoppingguide.com]]>Bachelor Living: The 'Single' Greatest High School Elective, Evertag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.21898412012-11-26T02:00:46-05:002013-01-25T05:12:01-05:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/Bachelor Living," it was a no-brainer.
I challenge anyone before or after to come up with a better, school-sanctioned, waste of an entire period.
Upon looking around the room the first day, I quickly surmised that I was not alone in my quest to avoid thinking any longer than was absolutely necessary, as the entire class, of about 20, was made up of 10 "burn-outs," 8 "jocks," and my friend Darin and myself. We were "roamers."
A "roamer" was someone who wasn't a nerd, a jock, nor a burn-out, but, given the right time and place, could be either one.
Given that the combined make-up of the the class probably had an IQ of around 5, I was fairly confident I was in the right place. After all, what's the worst question that could be asked on a test in a class like this?
How long do you toast a piece of toast?
As if a legal, 45 minute snooze-fest in the middle of the day wasn't enough to make a young boy eager to wake up each morning, add to the mix the teacher assigned to instruct us on how to master the finer points of living like a single guy... was Mrs. Baldwin; the school's sweet, harmless, 80 year-old guidance counselor. It was the equivalent of Clint Eastwood showing up to teach pre-teen ballet.
God, what that poor woman had to endure. To her credit, she always took everything with a grain of salt, and, laughed it off. Even the hardest of the derelicts grew to respect her for standing there and taking it. The shout-outs, comments, 'spiking of the brownies,' and the overall abuse doled out by a class of nearly two dozen, hormone -- and occasionally unknown substance -- filled boys, would have been enough to drive any seasoned teacher to resign after only a week. Mrs. Baldwin lasted the whole year.
Thanks to her, I learned how to make spaghetti, create my own shirts with mismatching sleeves, and sew a football-shaped pillow from scratch. What else would a bachelor in the 80s need?
Of course, if the class were taught today, they'd have to include a few more basics;
Marital Law -- In case your girlfriend starts referring to herself as your "common-law wife."
Hacking -- So, when your boss tries to downsize you, you can show him the photos you found on his laptop.
Singing lessons -- Because, let's face it, according to your father, the only shot you have at not winding up at Starbucks is being a contestant on The Voice.
Her legendary incite into the bachelor life was so inspirational, to this day, Mrs. Baldwin is the reason I'm still single. #carryingthetorch]]>Notes From Oblivion: Life in the Aftermath of Sandytag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.20600642012-11-09T14:07:16-05:002013-01-09T05:12:01-05:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
Over the next two hours, watching from the safety of our fifth-floor apartment, we saw the water level around the entire block rise from about six inches to close to four feet. The bushes that once surrounded the jewelry store on the ground floor disappeared. The tree that stood in front of the hair salon fell like a has-been heavyweight champion who just took his final punch. The current was so strong it began picking up stray minivans, shoving them into utility poles and flushing them all downstream, wherever that might have been.
The unfortunate ones parked on the streets, who must've thought they were far enough away from any serious danger, could do nothing, but sit, watch and listen as their headlights went from a blinking bright white to a faint jaundice color, and alarms went from screaming through the streets to whimpering like a dying dog. Then, nothing. All was quiet on the Western Front. Except the sound of sirens, coming from what seemed like all directions.
How could this be happening this far away from the Hudson? It's not exactly like we live directly on the waterfront. My building's a good half-mile from the promenade, so to see this wrath-of-God type of flood, this far back of shore, you pretty much knew the whole city was in for a long night -- and then some. For the first time in history, Hoboken was breached by the Hudson from both the north and south sides.
Pictures of the turnstiles in the Path station flooding as if someone had opened a giant spigot were all over Facebook. CNN had shots of the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel filling with water. Then, the lights went out.
Many of us spent the night hanging out our windows watching the cars, doors and construction material from half-completed sites float by as if that was what they always did. Staring out into the pitch-black night, and hearing the wail of emergency vehicles, you couldn't help but think, this is what a nuclear attack must be like. (Without the obvious side effects.)
The morning after brought more of the same. The city was a scene out of Night of the Living Dead. Zombie people roaming the countryside looking for their belongings, trying to save their businesses, police warning you not to "go there." Curfews implemented. Water trucks showing up to help the unprepared. And, the National Guard arriving, making it feel like we live in Haiti.
A student of my brother-in-law was killed by a falling tree while trying to walk his dog. A friend of mine, a 9/11 first responder, couldn't get out to get his asthma medication. Two teenage girls died from C02 poisoning from their generator. Even though my car was toast, things could definitely be worse.
Now that we were being told over 50 percent of the state was without power, and would be for some time, we began making preparations for the "Amish" life that awaited us.
Due to the East Coast gas reserves taking a direct hit, word was there were lines 50 cars long at the one or two open stations in the area. This made the problem of charging your phones and stuff a bit more complicated, as you don't want to drain your battery anymore than it already is, so the more you charge your device, the more fuel you burn, and the closer you are to being stranded.
First problem was getting out of our building. Most folks with families chose to leave right away, as, besides a cold shower, the thought of navigating the 10 or more flights of stairs in total darkness each time you need to go outside, was probably enough motivation. Thank God for the free Flashlight app., as every store from here to Timbuktu is out of batteries.
I was able to start my car, but the warning lights were all on, and it sounded like shit. And, good luck maneuvering around all the abandoned vehicles. Friends began telling me of their two-hour journey to go a mile or two to the supermarket in Jersey City.
We decided to drive to the next county -- although the next country would be preferable -- a good 10 miles away, but after getting through all the blockades, things were no better. The one burger joint in the mall in Paramus that was open had a line a mile long, and the mall itself looked like O'Hare during a snow storm; hundreds of teens camped along the floors waiting for their Macbooks and phones to charge in the working outlets. For some reason, 11th St. in Hoboken still has power, so many of the residents have opened their homes to be used as charging stations.
The few supermarkets in the area with power are mobbed. Tempers are flaring. People are fighting over one place in a line that will take you an hour, anyway. Motorists try to gain the extra advantage that comes from going straight on a street without a working traffic light, but the drivers from the side streets, rather than wait for a chance that may see them there 'til Xmas, cut in completely unexpectedly, causing dozens of near-misses each minute.
On a personal note, after three days of living without power of any kind, the stench from my fridge reminds me of the scene in Goodfellas when Ray Liotta opens his trunk to discover a rotting "Billy Bats" inside. The dishes are clean, but the smell from the garbage disposal is in need of constant bleach spray. Candle wax is everywhere, and walking the long, dark hallways to toss trash is better than any haunted mansion ride at Disney.
The only thing that works is the gas, so pasta is pretty much the mainstay the past few days, but cooking in candlelight isn't the easiest thing. Each morning, you wake to find stains and bits of crumbs in places you didn't know were there the night before.
After taking a freezing shower, I tried to dry my hair over the stove, and almost set my head ablaze. Since there's no working washing machines, and we're constantly being told the puddles and floods that remain are mixed with sewage, you try and dress as if each day is "Laundry Day"; e.g., one red sock, one blue one, etc.
I have to give my folks credit, though. Despite knowing the situation at the airports, despite knowing the three-hour-plus traffic jams across Manhattan, and, despite seeing the condition the entire tri-state area is currently in, they have chosen to leave sunny Florida and come north, anyway. You see, they have their grandchildren's birthdays to attend. And, nothing can stop a grandparent from seeing their grandchild. Not even a life-taking hurricane. Good for you, mom and dad. You show that storm.
I should take a moment to give credit to the people of Hoboken, as well as they city and state officials. Given the extent of the crisis, the access to water and food trucks parked all over town, the updates on Hoboken411 and on the city's Facebook page, and the help being offered by neighbors to those who are in real bad shape, makes this unbearable situation a bit more bearable.
As for myself, looking forward to what appears to be many more days of this type of existence, I have to ask one thing of you, Sandy: "Why-ee-eye-eye, oh, Why?"]]>The Land That Time (and the Mayor) Forgot: Thousands of Seniors Still Without Heat in the Rockawaystag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.20974742012-11-09T01:46:45-05:002013-01-08T05:12:01-05:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/
Being part of a crew documenting the aftermath of Sandy, we were asked to visit the JASA (Jewish Assoc. Serving the Aged) Senior housing projects along the beach in Far Rockaway today. The reason they asked us is because practically every other media outlet has ignored their pleas for help.
Below are some excerpts from the numerous emails I received which prompted us to drop everything and head out there:
"The situation in Far Rockaway is dire and out of control. A body bag was pulled out of one the buildings yesterday. There is no National Guard, Red Cross or any other disaster relief agency on site.
Individual volunteers and other small volunteer groups are the only ones on site.
Most of the recovery efforts in the Rockaways are focused on the Western part of the peninsula where fires erupted such as Rockaway Park and Breezy Point.
The buildings have approximately 2,000 units housing senior citizens, most of whom are of Russian descent. Each building is over 20 stories high housing approx 16 units on each floor. It is unclear how many did not tenants evacuated, however, it is known that only 25 percent of the Rockaway Peninsula evacuated."
"Homebound seniors can't leave their homes, most can't walk up and down the stairs. They need medicine and medical care, in addition to food and water.
The owners of the buildings have no real plan for recovery and if they do, haven't announced one. Building management had no idea that LIPA (Long Island Power Authority) services the Rockaway Peninsula, and not Con Ed.
Apparently all of the systems to the building have been compromised.
They told me Doctors without Borders are there, but we know for a fact they aren't. On Sunday, Doctors without Borders were on Beach 38 and yesterday, one of the volunteers informed us that Doctors without Borders have not been there."
"I was personally in Far Rockaway today with four other girls. We were at Beach 19th street in buildings 125, 135 and 155 handing out supplies and food. What's happening there is an utter disgrace, management has no clue who is in the buildings, what they need or what the reality of the situation is. Someone posted that a body was discovered and carried out today. That's absolutely true, saw it with my own eyes."
"Hallways are becoming peoples restrooms, all the tenants are running their stoves to stay warm -- the smell of gas is unbearable and most of the people are in the 80-plus group so I wouldnt be surprised if one accidently sets the whole building on fire or kills themselves b/c they didnt turn the gas off (many organization groups in an effort to help were distributing candles and matches). Many of the tenants were telling me they have sons, daughters etc. but they cant come get them b/c they work or have no gas."
Upon arriving, we met Yana Feldman, an estate planning attorney who had been there since the beginning and was leading a group of volunteers. She confirmed what the above emails stated. "The problem is, some can't leave and some refuse to," she says. Apparently, many of the 80-plus-year-olds have the attitude, 'I survived two wars. I can survive this.'" Which doesn't make their job any easier. Volunteers were carrying the elderly out down 19 flights of stairs to shelters.
Our crew was told to stop filming almost as soon as we started by one of the complex managers. She then gave me a number to call and I was told I'd have to wait an hour, as, Terry Marks, the director, was on with the Times. When I finally got through, Ms. Marks went on a manic-but-well-informed rant about how many things they were doing and, if we really wanted to help, we should just leave and, "Let them do their job."
The entire time the director was rattling off each thing that was supposedly being done, e.g. generators, Doctors Without Borders, etc., poor Yana was standing there shaking her head in disagreement. It was quite bizarre being in the middle of a conversation like that, but, who would you believe? A director who's calling from an office miles away, or a volunteer on the ground who's been there for days on end?
Ultimately, Ms. Marks did come off as empathetic to the situation and was most likely just under a lot of understandable stress, as she was no doubt being pulled in several directions at once. There's no denying she cares about the seniors, it just may be a case of receiving some incorrect information. Which brings me to my original statement:
Ultimately, the directors and volunteers are on the same side. But, so many people are telling so many tales as to who's to blame, or who's saying what, you can't help but feel caught in the web of complete chaos that damage to such a widespread area such as this creates.
For instance, I was told by Ms. Marks that LIPA is saying it's "Not their problem." Apparently, their systems are fine and it's the buildings electrical systems that are damaged, and that's not their problem. Meanwhile, the building's management says that's hogwash, and it is, indeed, LIPA's problem.
Jeff Altman, of Owl Creek Asset Mgmt., who, along w/ COO Dan Sapadin, brought a team of volunteers to the projects, thinks LIPA is "full of it."
"My mother lives three miles from here and she doesn't have power, either. So, trying to tell us everything's dandy out here is simply not true."
Trying to get to the heart of the matter, I called six different numbers for LIPA -- everything from customer service, to emergency explosions, to the medical equipment catastrophe line -- and all were busy. I sent an email to Bruce Germano, LIPA's V.P. of customer service, but received no reply.
Today was the first day they saw a Red Cross truck. It just happened to arrive as we were leaving. The truck announced they had blankets and meals. Within seconds, the blankets were gone. The guy driving the truck said he was told by dispatch they "didn't need him there," but he came, anyway. Another miscommunication.
The bottom line is, when workers from a hedge fund and some volunteers from the Israeli Army, outnumber FEMA, the Red Cross and the National Guard, two weeks after an epic storm, you know something's rotten in Denmark.
Even city councilman James Sanders thinks the entire situation stinks.
I'm sure the mayor cares about these people, and, he can't be in all places at once. However, I would say, if it were me, and there was a massive power outage, one which affected thousands of the city's sick and elderly, and left them freezing and imprisoned in their dark towers for weeks, I'd make sure they were the ones who got priority, rather than the rich, white folk a stone's throw away, in Breezy Point.
The New York Times is supposedly running a story on the situation on Friday. All I can advise is, having been there first hand, unless the power is fully restored sometime this afternoon, take everything you read with a grain of salt. Nothing is as it appears to be, and those poor folks need help.
If anyone wishes to help, you can join the Facebook group set up by the volunteers.]]>Facebook Sued Over Allegedly Allowing Chinese Counterfeiters to Sell Fake NFL Jerseystag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.20065172012-10-30T15:20:10-04:002012-12-30T05:12:01-05:00David Faginhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-fagin/blog dated June 12, it basically states exactly what the NFL, and its merchandisers, are stating in a class action suit filed against Facebook yesterday in a California court.
The suit claims, because of Facebook's insatiable desire to break into the still untapped Chinese marketplace, it has aligned itself with a Chinese marketing firm called Adsage that has been repeatedly accused of doing business with counterfeit entities in numerous countries across the globe.
To make matters worse, the suit accuses Facebook of helping these marketers -- both legal and illegal -- gain access to your data by "opening" their source code to its Chinese partners. Thus, if you routinely visit pages that promote the NFL, chances are you will be prompted to click on ads for "Authentic NFL Jerseys" that are anything but.
In recent months, Apple and Google have both been caught spying on its users. The implications of the world's largest social networking site sharing all your info is huge. Not only in the area of counterfeit goods, but, in the realm of security, as well.
Chris Clayton, editor-in-chief of Delta Skymag, recently published an article demonstrating how futile, and near impossible, it is to hide your information once it's out there, and how readily available it is for those seeking to gain access to it.
Unfortunately, our lawmakers on capitol hill seem to be asleep at the wheel when it comes to protecting our interests in cyberspace. When it comes to online issues, they move about as fast as a python after eating a bear.
There needs to be a bill introduced in congress that mandates prison time, as well as heavy fines, for any CEO whose company is proven, knowingly or unknowingly, to be sharing its users personal information with other entities. That's the only way you motivate the tech geeks to make sure their first priority is your protection, and not their pocketbook.
'Like,' don't be surprised, if, in the coming weeks, more companies add themselves to this particular lawsuit.]]>