Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 20, 2019
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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 20, 2019

Having privilege is not inherently a bad thing. It does not define who you are. What you do with that privilege does. Do you use it to help people or hurt people? Bobby Kennedy is not Donald Trump and Donald Trump is no Bobby Kennedy. (Baby brother Teddy was no Bobby either when he used his privilege to let a dead girl get waterlogged in his sunken car.)

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Buying Whores for Chuck Berry and a Threat from Jerry Lee Lewis
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Buying Whores for Chuck Berry and a Threat from Jerry Lee Lewis

“You work for the radio station?” he asked again.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Lewis. I’m Dr. Dave Maxwell. What can I help you with?” Little Richard walked past us, and he,  too, looked frail and worn down. The Killer glared at him as he passed. The Innovator didn’t seem to notice. Jerry Lee turned his gaze back at me, his eyes smaller now, his face taut with rage.

“Can you do me a favor, boy?”

“Of course.” 

“Don’t let that niggah touch my pianah.” He and his two men went on their way.

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Is Marketing the Root of All Evil?
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Is Marketing the Root of All Evil?

Gillette doesn’t feel like a sales pitch. It feels genuine. It is a marketing success. But also, “Buy our razors because Dollar Shave Club and Harry’s ain’t woke like we are.” There’s just no escaping it, for-profit companies need our money, and they’ll do anything to get it. In this case, Gillette did it right.

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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 6, 2019
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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 6, 2019

You don’t need balloons or cupcakes to be excited about learning your baby’s sex. And yes, it’s a sex. It’s never gender. Gender is a social construct, and for even the most pro-life pro-lifers out there, an unborn child/fetus/uterine turd cannot, by the laws of science, be socialized. Talk to it, play music for it, fine. You can’t make it like pink or blue in the womb. If you need to be surprised about your baby’s sex, listen to what your OB or midwife tells you during pregnancy, or at the time of birth. Getting all geared up over the sex of a child is exactly why we have sexism. So, please, for the sake of our future, knock it the fuck off.

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2018: In Like a Savage Lion, Out Like a Rabid Lamb
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2018: In Like a Savage Lion, Out Like a Rabid Lamb

Christmas Day 2018, Hammond, Illinois — My wife is a sleep. My son is asleep. My in-laws, I assume, are asleep. Santa, I hope with all my heart, is ripped on the good scotch and burning off the last of his Christmas Spirit on a horned and lubed up Mrs. Claus. And me, I’m awake with thoughts of family and the geriatric year 2018. It was a year many people have complained about. And for many, it wasn’t easy. Immigrants, would-be immigrants; refugees, would-be refugees… They had a rough go. Families of Parkland, Florida. The storms, the fires… There were some large scale FUBAR situations for sure. And these are situations we all need to reconcile with someday soon — a must before we meet our maker. But on the smaller scale of individuality, things were different. In hindsight — which is all we have left at this point, really — 2018 wasn’t so bad.

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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 23, 2018
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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 23, 2018

The big gifts from my wife this Christmas was a Simple Human trashcan for the kitchen, and the Verilux HappyLight Lucent. See, boys and girls, it’s easy to buy presents for a neat freak with a chronic case of the mulligrubs.

I’m still in the infant stage of its use but so far, this HappyLight thing seems to be doing the trick. I do feel better. Plus, I think it’s making my penis bigger.

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George H.W. Bush and a Young Boy’s Foray into Politics
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George H.W. Bush and a Young Boy’s Foray into Politics

I was confused. Had I done something wrong? What the hell was a democrat and why didn’t they like republicans? And what was a republican, anyway? I looked at one of the pamphlets. Maybe I’d discover something awful about this George Bush guy. But nothing terrible was there: flew a plane in World War II, was our Vice President, did something with something called the CIA, was a congressman — whatever that was. I was nervous to deliver any more pamphlets. For the rest of my route, if it looked like someone was home, I avoided the house completely.

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The Charitable Act of Giving will Save Us All
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The Charitable Act of Giving will Save Us All

Think about your life. In what ways are you fortunate? Now, think of the ways you’re unfortunate? Think of those times when you needed a leg up, a hand, a new pair of boots with bootstraps to pull. Self-reliance and determination can only get you so far. Even if we’re all islands, an island still needs the sea and the air to sustain itself. At some point in all our lives, we need a little help. A shoulder to lean on; an ear to bend.

And while things can always be worse, they can always be better, too. 

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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of Thanksgiving Edition
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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of Thanksgiving Edition

It’s funny, the things I care about now since becoming a father. It’s not the environment or my finances or my health — not any more than I did before Harrison arrived. It’s diaper changing stations in public restrooms. I see one of those in a men’s room and I am overwhelmed with joy. #FathersRights 

Oh, shit. I think I used that Fathers’ Rights hashtag incorrectly.

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Did I Just Witness a #MeToo Moment?
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Did I Just Witness a #MeToo Moment?

So, did I just witness a #MeToo moment? Was I the guy who pushed through her personal space? Did I assault her sensibilities? Did I make her feel uncomfortable?

Maybe. Probably. But I doubt she’ll make a big deal of it to her friends — assuming she has any. I think that young woman operates in a state of perpetual annoyance. The city and its people and its Starbucks electrical outlets are nothing more than inconveniences hellbent on ruining her day. It’s her world and the rest of us are mere pigeons shitting on her head.

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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 11, 2018
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Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 11, 2018

This Thanksgiving, let’s remember that this year’s holiday falls on the 65th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. So let’s be thankful that most of us won’t experience having our spouse’s skull and brains splattered all over our designer outfit while riding in a convertible. I bet Jackie even got some brain matter in her mouth. Gross. Pumpkin pie is so much better, I’m sure.

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