Good Will Shopping

Katie, Eric and I went to Goodwill today. Katie wants 70s garb for her roller skating party, since it's only 3 months away. Eric needs some respectable-looking pants, in case he gets a job, or at least an interview. And I need something professional to wear to Waco next week.

There's a sentence you don't get to read every day.

None of us were entirely successful. I bought a flirty little top with outrageous décolletage, Katie inexplicably picked out fur-lined boots and a sweater, and Eric found nothing at all. Apparently they were fresh out of pants.

Ah, but we did find this:

The best thing about it is the American flag pin, which seems to suggest that if you don't like this jacket, you must hate your country. Nice try, but no reasonable person would ever disagree that wearing this garment would be little short of an act of terrorism in itself; and in fact, putting a flag pin on it is roughly equivalent to using the real thing to wipe your, um, nose.

It's at the Lake Austin Blvd. location, if you're interested. You might want to hurry.

Mano a Mano

So there's been an absolutely outrageous amount of coverage - to which I know I'm now adding, sorry, but that's okay because only about fifteen people will read this - about the fact that Barack and Michelle Obama good-humoredly pound-dogged each other Tuesday night when he claimed the Democratic nomination.

Personally, I think the pound-dog (the mainstream media seem to prefer the term "fist bump") is a little passé, a little 2003. But the mainstream media appear hardly to have heard of the gesture before. At best, stories in the New York Times and other legitimate media outlets are abuzz because they suggest this explains why today's hip youngsters/young hipsters (take your pick) are particularly able to relate to Barack Obama. At the worst, surprise surprise, Fox "Earth?? Where?!?!?" News has taken out-of-touchedness to a whole new level, pandering to the fist-shaking-old-codger demographic by suggesting that the gesture could be a secret al-Qaida signal: a "terrorist fist jab," in their shrill terms. (Not that they actually said that it was. They just said that's what a lot of people were thinking it might be. Riiiiiiiiiiight.)

Am I missing something here? I know Austin is an unusually hip place. But, you know, I don't get out all that much, and I'm in my late thirties, and still the "pound dog" is something I've been exposed to for years and years, here and there: on the hike-and-bike trail, on Comedy Central, on network TV, fer crissakes. And here's a thought for you interwebz: Just because Oprah Winfrey would look awkward and out-of-place doing something, does not mean it is not a perfectly natural and unremarkable thing to do.

She looks pretty awkward and out-of-place running a book club, come to think of it. Who reads that tripe? But I digress.

Anyway, I'm just pitching in, exactly like the people who reply-to-all to some idiot who has just replied-to-all on a companywide email, telling the idiot in question not to reply-to-all, to say, hello? Been to Earth lately? (I'm not asking Fox News, we already know about them.) What the hell's the big deal?

Meanwhile, here are a few better things for you fist-shaking-old-codger types to do with your clenched fingers.

Ask Questions Later

If you don't go to Homeland Security training, then the terrorists have already won.

Where I work, all employees classified as safety-sensitive are required to take this class. I wish I'd done a better job planning ahead, so I could have ordered one of these shirts to wear to the session: just something to liven up what I assumed would be a three-hour yawnfest.

Wrong on both counts. Turns out Yosemite Sam was in my class, rendering it considerably more interesting, but unfortunately considerably longer as well.

Sam raised his had for the first time not long after the presentation began. The instructor - head of security for my work campus - was covering your main categories of terrorism, which rather to my surprise include any crimes against person or property, no matter what the motive. Your car was broken into? Terrorism.

What - you're freaked out about it, aren't you? All right then.

Obviously, by this definition, murder for whatever motive is a terrorist act. So Sam raised his hand and told us the story of an act of terrorism that had taken place where he had once worked. A grocery store manager had been stabbed to death with a butcher knife: stabbed seven, or eight, or nine times; then, "just to make a statement," Sam said, the killer left the knife impaled in the victim's body.

Sam did not clarify exactly what the statement was, but I'm hazarding something along the lines of "Guess I won't be needing this knife anymore!"

This was just for openers. As the class progressed, the instructor began to talk about how we're always vulnerable to threats. "Why," he said, "if you wanted to, you could -" only I won't tell you the rest, because he basically gave us detailed instructions on how to break into headquarters and wipe out the entire personnel department.

Here, Yosemite Sam raised his hand and asked why our security guards aren't armed.

One wonders if he has actually seen our security guards. I have, and frankly I wouldn't trust most of them with anything more lethal than an eggplant. But it was a dear topic to Sam, so after the instructor responded that arming security guards would be an administration decision and out of his hands, Sam went on to repeat the question at least five more times. I lost count. Then he went on to ask why employees who hold a concealed handgun license aren't allowed to carry firearms on the job. Rules, he pointed out, are only for good guys. Bad guys don't follow the rules!

The constant interruptions seemed to annoy our instructor, who retaliated by describing in great detail how one might bring down the entire U.S. economy with a single well-placed refinery fire. Good gravy! Whose side is he on, anyway?!

As the instructor wound up the class, half an hour after its scheduled ending time, Sam stood up and asked to address the group. He revealed that he runs a private investigative business on the side (sheesh, what a dick!) and teaches classes on personal safety, and wanted to pass along a couple of very important tips especially for us ladies. One, always carry a can of mace in your hand whenever you're walking from a building to your car. Always! With your finger ready on the button. You can't be too safe, you know! Two, always be on the lookout for guys lying around under your SUV or pickup in mall parking lots waiting to attack you.

I don't know about you, but I feel much safer now.