The Firefighters' Response

"To the IAFF and to the families of the 344 fire fighters who gave their lives so others might live, it is no joking matter." (Harold Schaitberger, then-General President of the International Association of Firefighters)

Some follow-up on the Joan Rivers thing from the previous post, which seems to have sparked more than a little interest...

The remarks in question - which referred to the widows of firefighters killed in the 9-11 collapse of the World Trade Center - were from a tour Rivers was doing in England in early 2003, barely a year and a half after the attacks. I've looked for a transcription of Rivers' routine so readers could have it for reference but so far I've not found one. A few sources described portions - how disappointed the widows would have been if it turned out their husbands were alive and they had to give back the large checks Rivers (erroneously) said they received, how they were better off without having to deal with their husbands' shortcomings anymore, etc. - but nothing that described the routine in its entirety.

I never suggested, of course, that Ms. Rivers should be arrested, nor censored, simply shot at from an airplane. We live in America, and this is not the first reminder we've had that freedom of speech comes with a dark, unfortunate side that we must allow. I am aware that, for better or worse, publicly ridiculing innocent victims and going for easy shock-laughs at their expense, though reprehensible, is legal. It's done in school-yards by still-developing minds all the time.

As a professional clown, I'll also take difference with any suggestion I don't have a sense of humor, or that the one I have is too high-brow. Ask any rubber-chicken I own. They'll tell you.

I respect the point-of-view of readers who disagree with me as to the appropriateness of Rivers' remarks. (Remember, these are not simply jokes about death, which are often as useful as they are funny. These are jokes about people who died violent deaths because they ran into a burning building to save people after terrorists attacked. Call me crazy, but I think there's a difference.) In fact, the advent of the Internet even makes it possible for anyone who feels Rivers' remarks were not cruel and inappropriate to express that opinion directly to the International Association of Firefighters (IAFF) at:

http://www.iaff.org/Contact/contact.html?subj=19

Before you do, though, you may want to consider what their then-General President, Mr. Harold Schaitberger, wrote shortly after Rivers' ridicule.

From http://www.firehouse.com/news/2002/5/3_IAFFrivers.html:

WASHINGTON - "Comedian Joan Rivers' attempts to find humor in the catastrophic loss that our members and their loved ones suffered on September 11 is a new low and cannot be tolerated.

"For those of you who may have missed the news reports, she has a bit in her current show in England that openly mocks the relatives of our brothers. Her new show, "Broke And Alone In London," makes light of the widows whose husbands were killed in the collapse of the World Trade Center. It's hard to understand, given that she lost 11 friends herself that day.

"Despite negative reaction in England, she is vowing to keep the sick joke in her act, and I'm sure she's just waiting for the backlash so she can jump-start her career. Well, here it is.

"First, let me be clear to Ms. Rivers that our widows would give anything to have their husbands back. The loss they suffered in an instant was total and profound, and no efforts by anyone can make that pain go away. But, as you have proven, it can be made more painful with a resentful remark or a caustic comment.

"Second, these courageous women have received very little in real terms in exchange for what they have lost. The financial burdens of losing a primary breadwinner, feeding, clothing and educating hundreds of fatherless children, and planning for decades of your own life without your loved one are overwhelming. Ms. Rivers should check her facts. The widows and families haven't received anything near $5 million, but even if they had, it would not equal what they have lost.

"Third, and last, Ms. Rivers has attacked the very symbols of this proud nation's response to terrorism. If she had been in the Twin Towers on Sept. 11, the New York fire fighters - my members - would have sacrificed anything to get her out alive. They would do the same for her now, even knowing how little she thinks of their devotion to her safety. This is a nation at war, and Ms. Rivers' comments strike at the heart of our unified front against the threats that face us. Maybe it doesn't feel as real in London, but I can tell you it feels real to my 250,000 members protecting North America.

"I am sorry that Ms. Rivers has chosen to find humor in our tragic and devastating loss. To the IAFF and to the families of the 344 fire fighters who gave their lives so others might live, it is no joking matter."

Looking Out from the Spiderhole

As Lori reminds me, I haven't been around lately. Still alive and well, just navigating some unusually busy seas. Good things mostly - busy at work, a bunch of last minute preparation for the new course I'm starting to teach this week, etc. Hopefully things will let up enough so that I can take the Christmas tree down some time before I have to hang hearts on it and call it a Valentine's Day Fern.

A few thoughts and observations I've been wanting to commit to writing...

Taking a Dive
It amazes me that people think that photo really shows Michael Phelps dragging from a bong. He's an American hero, for goodness sake. He wouldn't do that. He was obviously attending a classical music event and was being shown how to blow into a bassoon. Yeah, yeah, that's the ticket.

Now that we've settled that, there's also a logical explanation for this A-Rod/steroid thing, and you'll read it here as soon as I come up with it.

Memo to Ashley Judd...
Readers here know I'm second to none in my lack of confidence in Sarah Palin to lead the contiguous 48. But fair is fair: when the problem at hand is that wolves are threatening the caribou and moose populations, even I can see the average New Yorker is probably not qualified to offer an opinion, including on whether or not aerial hunting is appropriate. Besides, we do something similar here. We just call them drive-by shootings.

Why I Wish Joan Rivers were a Wolf in Alaska
PBS has been airing a wonderful six-part series about the history of American comedy. A couple of weeks ago, during an otherwise hilarious and informative episode, I was floored - and not in a good way - by a clip from a Joan Rivers stand-up piece about how the 9/11 widows were better off having the financial settlement checks instead of having their husbands.

I read once a quote from Lou Jacobs, one of the greatest and most recognizable circus clowns of the 20th century. Someone asked in an interview how he knew whether something was funny. He answered, simply, that if people laughed it was funny. I understand what he was getting at, but I respectfully disagree with anyone who takes that too literally. To call everything that makes a portion of the population laugh comedy is something like calling every greasy, fatty, processed chemical-laden stuff people want to ingest food. It's bad enough when artless school-yard dog-piling on people who are gay, handicapped, or whatever the person trying to be funny is not passes as comedy. When someone uses 9/11 deaths as the object of jokes, a serious line has been crossed. It's doubtful Rivers would make the same statement, even as part of an act, to the face of a 9/11 widow who in reality would give that settlement check and another like it to have her loved one back. There's a difference - and it's a big one - between something being shocking because it's insightful and cutting edge, and something being shocking just because it's so cruel as to be inappropriate.

I don't care what Joan Rivers accomplished early in her career. And I don't give a damn how many people were shocked into laughing this time around. It's not comedy. Period.

In Ms. Rivers' case, her horrifying insensitivity is particularly surprising, even hypocritical. Her own husband Edgar, sitting in a Philadelphia hotel room in 1987 faced with a choice between staying married to her or swallowing a bottle of Valium, chose the latter. It's been 22 years, not the 7 the 9/11 widows have had, and I still haven't heard Ms. Rivers extolling the hilarity of that event in her own life. Maybe I just missed it.

Truths to Hold Self-Evident

Looking today at the new administration being sworn in, and at Congressional leaders, Supreme Court justices, and several decades of former presidents and vice-presidents, I realized why this country is in the state it's in. For as long as anyone can remember, we have been led by people who, regardless of gender, age or party affiliation, lack the common sense to wear a hat when it's twenty-something degrees with a wind chill factor of 14 and you're going to be outside for an hour or two.

As our President Obama prepares to spend the next several years dealing with a depressed economy, two wars, and living with his mother-in-law, let's wish him the wisdom and strength to be successful. I really don't want to think about the alternative.

Professor Ben Rides Again

Sorry for the way-too-long between posts. The beginning of my resurrected teaching life - this time in continuing education - is coming up fast, and I'd forgotten how much time it takes to create lectures from scratch. I'm enjoying the process - it's impossible to teach without learning a bunch of things yourself - but it has kept me from writing here. Maybe if I start posting here entries about heating, cooling and plumbing system basics...

Item 1: The Captain Has Turned Off the Fasten Seatbelt Sign

The big story here, and probably in a lot of other places, has been the emergency landing of that plane on the Hudson River back on 1/15. Even my friends across the pond have probably heard about it: three or so minutes after taking off from LaGuardia for what was supposed to be a fairly short flight to North Carolina, a US Airways jet apparently had its engines nailed by a couple of geese in the area of the Bronx Zoo, thereby destroying the engines and bringing down the plane. With no real chance to make it to any other area airport without endangering populated areas below, the pilot brought it down into the Hudson River. Everyone - 150 passengers from infant to elderly, plus crew - were successfully rescued despite frigid temperatures of both the air and the water. The only significant injuries were to the geese. If you know what goes on in NYC on a typical day you can imagine how much it takes to get a bunch of seasoned New Yorkers standing at the windows with their jaws dropped. (When it comes to current events, we're hard to impress.) But at my workplace, which overlooks the river, that's exactly what happened. I guess a plane floating down the Hudson will do that. Praise whoever you're of a mind to - a lot of bullets were dodged that day.


Item 2: And Now, the End is Near...

Just about eight years ago, George W. Bush took an oath to uphold the constitution and serve the United States of America to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened.

In final tribute to the man 22% of Americans (no doubt most of them being comedians) think did a good job, Letterman did a final montage of his "Great Moments in Presidential Speeches" the other night. In the hope I can get the technology to work right, I present it to you herewith. (Watching this, I had to keep reminding myself I wasn't watching Will Ferrell.) Enjoy.



Item 3: How About You Don't Get Back to us on That?

Memo to Sarah Palin: Leaders don't whine. Either figure out the real reason things didn't go your way and fix them, or stop thinking about 2012. Here's a hint to get you started: it wasn't Katie Couric's fault.



Item 4: Free and Worth Every Penny

Now that the AOL Welcome page has devolved into the National Enquirer, from where am I supposed to get news?

Item 5: Success Is Counted Sweetest...

I've had a number of inquiries about the man-vs.-waffle maker competition. The day after the crashing defeat described in the previous post, I knew I had to take this beast on again or there would be no rest. Armed with a better batter recipe (thank you, Alton Brown) and with the bitter humiliation of the previous day's experience still stinging my soul, I went the distance and emerged reasonably victorious, even having extras for freezing. (Since this is supposed to be a victory lap, we're not going to discuss what happened the following day, except to say I learned not to try to heat a frozen waffle in the microwave.)

Waffle Iron 1 Ben 0

Do you know how kids, when they're young, wake up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning and dive headfirst downstairs to look under the tree, while mom and dad are hoping for a little more sleep first? Fast forward to a few years later, when the same kids are home from college for the holidays and, around 11:00 a.m. on Christmas morning, mom and dad are saying, "Are they ever going to wake up and come down here?"

I got a gift this year I'd really been hoping for: a waffle iron. I'd wanted it since getting used to having fresh waffles while on vacation earlier this year, when the hotel had an electric one in the lobby as part of their breakfast set-up. Since the last thing I need is another electric appliance on my kitchen counter, I got one of the old-fashioned cast iron kind for the stove top.

If you've never had cast iron cooking equipment, your first is a real experience. First you have to bake it to clean off the paraffin used to protect it during shipping. Then you have to oil it and bake it again to "condition" it. Turns out cast iron is not naturally non-stick. Who knew? For washing, ti's water only. If you use soap, it undoes all that conditioning.

Combining the convenient parts of several batter recipes, including some I just made up, I proceeded eagerly into this new adventure and made my first waffle. Or what would have been my first waffle had the half that didn't overflow onto the stove not burnt to an unrecognizable crisp and gotten shredded as I tried scraping it out. A few minutes and one quick visit to the Internet later (and now armed with information on how to actually use a cast iron waffle maker), it was time to scrape it clean for another attempt. I was determined to make as many tries as it would take to cook something edible. (That's what big bowls of batter are for, right?) The second try wasn't much better, though at least it didn't overflow. The third try came out overcooked but moderately edible, assuming the person you gave it to was either really hungry or in a charitable mood. The fourth and fifth tries came out reasonably. The fifth quickly became a total disaster when I poured the last of the batter into the bottom half of the waffle iron and then, drunk with my new-found waffle-making successes, put the top half on up-side down. (In the true spirit of foolishness, the fact that the two sides of the top half look nothing alike wasn't enough to prevent me from doing this.) What I was able to scrape off became my portion, but that's ok. One of the great parts of cooking things yourself is that food which you'd recognize as horrible if someone else made it ends up tasting great to you.

The waffle iron is now rinsed, oiled and stored away till I get a rematch. And this time it's personal.


Class of 2008

I may not have put decorations on the tree or remembered to buy a wreath, but at this time of year the gingerbread cookies just have to get made. Some readers may recall that last year, in addition to making conventional gingerbread men I put together a kind of designer series. (They're at
http://ben-better-left-unsaid.blogspot.com/2007/12/ah-christmas.html. Right click on the partial photo and select "view image" to see the whole photo.) This year, I am pleased to announce the following new additions:

The Jennifer Aniston:

The Governor Blagojevich:

The Plaxico Burress:

Lost Soles

"It's not funny the first time you see it, but after 15 times you start laughing."
(My niece Caroline discussing "Napoleon Dynomite.")

Finally taking a break from the pressures of the season How easily a busy work schedule and holiday preparations distract us from the important things: guessing what Michelle Obama is going to wear to the inauguration.

Like everyone, I've seen over and over again that clip of the Iraqi journalist throwing his shoes at Bush. After my initial anger at how they were treating our president - I thought only we could treat our president that way - I started wondering about a couple of things. First and perhaps most obvious is: you're 15 feet away - HOW COULD YOU MISS??? Second, especially after learning that this, apparently, is a traditional means of expressing disrespect in Iraqi culture, I started wondering exactly how many shoes does the average Iraqi own that they can do this? Think about it. If you threw one or two shoes every time you felt dislike for someone, how many times could you do it before you'd run out and have to control your emotions or, failing that, start throwing socks? And does the cost and general condition of the shoe factor in somehow? ("I hate you so much you're not worth me throwing my new Bostonians. Eat these old Payless shower flip-flops, you dog!")

Unrelated Item: Timber!

A couple of nights ago I was up for a bit in the middle of the night, though the crash downstairs probably would have wakened me anyway. Prepared to take on a vicious gang of hoodlums, I walked downstairs and in the living room found the Christmas tree laying on its side with the vacuum cleaner and various other items that were in the tree's fall-path knocked down as well. Also there were two cats staring up from the rubble, their concerned expressions clearly saying, "Don't worry, Daddy. We'll find whoever did this awful thing!"

There is a certain futility that comes with having a Christmas tree and cats in the same house.

It's an artificial tree set in a heavy concrete base that's supposed to be hard to overturn. (Having raised twin sons and, in the process, lost all faith in the word "unbreakable", I probably should have known better.) Although it could have been either of them, I suspect it was Willie whose physics experiment led to the tree incident. He's grown into a muscular and athletic fellow we call "mighty cat." (Motto: why walk when you can leap?) Catch the right spot on the tree with a well timed leap and the concrete base doesn't stand a chance.

Happy Holidays to all!

Am I The Only One Who Thinks This Is Funny?

Photos have always held a fascination for me for the way they so often capture things the photographer could not have anticipated. A photo in my local newspaper today showed a group of parochial school kids depicting a nativity scene in a Christmas pageant.

Sometime between now and December 25th photos of things like that will be in nearly every small newspaper. Yet this one stands out for its inclusion, even unintentionally, of an additional religion icon...


Poetry, it seems, does not always need words. Sometimes numbers will do just fine.