THE AGELESS ABYSS

All of the sudden all the people around me are starting to have those milestone birthdays. You know the ones, where you suddenly find yourself saying, ‘how did we all get here so fast?” In fact, I’m staring down the barrel at my own milestone birthday. It’s not here yet, but it’s close enough to make me feel mildly sick to my stomach. As you can see, I’m not mentioning which birthday it is…so just imagine I’m 29, alright?

All of this age business of course got me thinking about the power of a number. How much emphasis society places on age, how much we ourselves allow ourselves to be qualified by a number, and for women especially, how that number can be as daunting as a trip to an amusement park in the dead of summer with a busload of screaming kids (that just makes me want to run and hide thinking about it).

You read all the time about people who were let go from certain jobs cause they were too old, or deemed too young and inexperienced, or even couples who split up over age differences even though they seem to work just fine; of course there are plenty of couples whose age difference is a major impediment cause when the man was on his first marriage, the woman wasn’t even born yet. But let’s stay on course, shall we.

So here’s my latest idea, after the good milestone birthdays (one’s first birthday; 16 years old, 21...all those are highly palatable) we abolish placing a number on age. Obviously we can’t stop aging, but we can certainly get rid of the number that goes along with it. Let’s be honest, how many times have you uttered the phrase, ‘but I don’t feel – (insert number).’ Or, ‘I am so tired, I feel 105.’ In fact, at any given time in your life, you can feel a variety of ages simultaneously. [Maybe I have multiple personalities, but I can’t be the only one that feels like this?] So in many instances, the actual number we have reached almost seems irrelevant.

Do you feel how hard I’m working here??

Then the fun bit would be the guessing game; in short, you have the incentive to look as good as you can, be healthy and yet, never have to reveal your age. So I’m thinking that this whole regime should start once you hit 30. After that, you simply fall into a blissful state of age abyss where no one knows your age, and no one ever will again. No longer will one hear, “you look great for your age.” Now it will be, you simply look great. 'Why thank you!' No longer will it be, “will you love me when I’m 65?” The answer will of course be, I will love you regardless you ageless Goddess...or it damn well better be. :-)

HAVE A NICE DAY

I was at the Gap in Los Angeles the other day with my two men (this is my new way to refer to the King and my partner: my two men. Has a nice ring to it and makes me look sought after) and the saleswoman was being less than welcoming. Who are we kidding; she was being a surly cow that wanted to be anywhere else but there. My partner and I looked at one another and jokingly said that she must be English…turns out she wasn’t, she just apparently hated her job.

But this got me thinking about customer service as it is hard not to when you’re visiting the States. Aside from Miss ‘I Hate My Life,’ most people working in the service industry over here are indoctrinated to smile, be helpful and bust their hump to serve the customer. Cause on these shores, the customer is always right. God I love America.

On the contrary, I was reading an article today in fact, about bad customer service in England – something I don’t think is a hidden secret, and well, even my British friends will concede that most that work in the service industry don’t have a clue about customer service. Let me rephrase that, most English that work in the service industry. In short, there is little in the way of common courtesy. Rarely do you get greeted, or looked at for that matter, and you certainly are never going to receive a ‘have a nice day.’ At best, you’ll get an unconvincing muttered ‘cheers’ under their breath as you're driven from the store by their foul mood. When I first moved to the UK, I must admit that I actually liked entering a store and being left alone. The problem was, after awhile, when you actually needed help – and a have a nice day attitude – it was nowhere to be found. [There are of course exceptions to this rule. I have a list of their names that I can post later :-)].

The article goes on to explain that the problem in England is the residue from the class system. In short, working in the service industry is considered beneath most people and therefore is not worth doing, especially not worth doing well. And apparently those on the bottom of the class system rung are wanting to get off that rung and have no desire to go clean up someone’s dirty dishes. Contrary to when I grew up – god I’m dating myself – being a waitress or bus girl meant heavy tips and cash in pocket, and there was nothing in the world wrong with that. In fact, that just meant more beer…sorry, I meant, more soda.

In my opinion, that right there is one of the biggest problems with the service industry in England. No one tips, or not that much anyway, and hence, there is no incentive to bring someone’s coffee to the table let alone not spit in it. Yes, I fear this when I’m dining out so I am never rude to anyone. Gone are the days when people simply had pride in their job. Any job. These days the incentives simply have to be there. Unless of course you work at Abercrombie and Fitch and then your incentive is that you get to take your shirt off, listen to music so loud you go deaf, and get ogled by the opposite sex. [My idea of hell really]. In fact that whole store gives me a headache and drives me to drink – but that’s for another time.

Now in England, those doing the service jobs are from other countries; and for me personally this is a very good thing (without wading into the immigration debate, as I see it, if certain people don’t want to drive a bus or serve coffee and someone else from another country is willing to, then so be it). Because people from Spain, Italy and Japan working at my local Starbucks are all ‘Up With People,’ as I call them. The smile at me, they coo at the King, and I get that small, appreciated moment where I actually feel like a customer and not an intrusion.  I say cheers to that.

BANG BANG, YOU'RE POINTLESS

The recent shootings in Arizona once again brought up the issue of gun control, and the ease at which one can obtain a gun in the United States. The scariest fact of course is that someone with serious mental problems falls under this umbrella, and the result is never a good one. A few days after the shooting there was a gun show virtually down the road from the tragedy. Of course thousands showed up all brimming with anticipation to handle the latest semi automatic – at least that’s what I think they do at a gun show? Clearly not my area of expertise or interest. They interviewed the man promoting the event and when he was asked about the sensitivity of proceeding with the show on the heels of the atrocity, he said that one bad apple in 300 million people shouldn’t spoil the rights of others to bear arms. ONE bad apple. This man is drinking some very strong delusional Kool-Aid.

To be honest, I am always surprised people don’t choke on their tongues when they’re spewing such crap. Sorry, my eloquence escapes me in times like these. So, that idiot that opened fire at the political rally (I refuse to use his name and give him any more air time) and killed a nine-year-old girl, amongst many others, is just ONE bad apple? Does Mr. Gun Show watch the news at night? From high school shootings, to guns being used in suicides, domestic disputes, gang warfare…the list is as long as the King’s tongue (the Kid looks like Gene Simmons, it’s alarming). Guns are absolutely everywhere, and there are a ton of apples out there using them and it’s not for good. In fact, it's rarely for good.

The NRA of course would beg to differ; I'm sure 'guns are great' are one of their many slogans. What I’d like to know is if any member of the NRA were a Father or Mother to that nine-year-old, how would they feel then? Would they be up on their soapbox screaming for a right to bear arms? And of course, as we all know, this country remains one of the few that places so few restrictions on gun sales. I think Michael Moore adeptly proved that in one of his films when someone literally walked into a gun store and had a gun hours later – and of course it was one of those towns that had a gun store on every corner. His films always do a good job of scaring the bejeezus out of me.

Just in case the NRA is reading this and needs the point fully illustrated, the following snippets are plucked from the news in the last few years. It’s just a very small taste of course of what joy guns bring to our world, but it is a sobering reminder that guns are about as useful as a blender in a blizzard (just you try and find out a good reason for that one). 

-Rapper shot to death over a fight during a flight

-Man shot and killed in his front yard

-Police shoot and kill man at birthday party

-Teen shot to death in argument

-3 year old fatally shot dead at home

-Woman charged in shooting death of live in boyfriend

-Storeowner fatally shot

-Man kills girlfriend holds children hostage before turning gun on self

I could go on and on and on....Gene Simmons, remember.

And I do speak from experience from this one; when I was a teenager - and a daft one at that - I had a party and two guys disappeared from the flock, found my father’s gun, and decided it would be a good idea to ‘play’ Kojak with it. The end result, one of them almost blew off his finger. And trust me, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t know how lucky everyone was that it was only a finger.