What’s got Connie so worked up? So many reasons to be ticked off — but in a good way.

The Oscars sucked this year. I do not like being disappointed with my Oscars. Whichever producer made the misguided judgment that Anne Hathaway and James Franco had the chops to host the Oscars really blew it and I hope he got sent to some Cyber-Siberia to think long and hard about pandering to a youth market.

It got me thinking about things I’m sick of:

• Appealing to a Younger Demographic (re: The Oscars)
When did we quit valuing sophistication, grace under fire, wisdom, class, confidence and wit? The young should be aspiring to be us, not the other way around. To paraphrase my pal Frank, we are the “A-dults” they are the “B-dults”. Get some real experience then we can talk about you being the Master of Ceremonies for something beyond Nickelodeon’s Kid’s Choice Awards.

• My “Coexist” bumper sticker — I’ve just taken the stupid thing off the back of my car — so use a turnout and get out of my way!

• Bristol Palin and her autobiography — What is she? 19? If she can write a book about getting knocked up as a teenager, then so can all my cousins on my father’s side.

• Charlie Sheen, Christina Aguilera, Brittany Spears, Lindsay Lohan, and whomever self-entitled, spoiled, greedy, ungrateful, whining, snotty little train wrecks that have yet to derail in front of our very eyes; but I’m even more disgusted with their publicists, handlers, body guards, doctors, and the other sycophants who cash in on their weaknesses and sicknesses because there’s bank at the end of it all, even if they die.

• Royal Wedding Fever — We are no longer British subjects. Take two aspirins and get over it already.

• Precocious Brats who are Smarter than their Parents on TV — Yo, writers. STOP IT.

• Using Lizards and Ducks to try to sell me Insurance or using a cartoon to try to sell me anything.

• The Tea Bagger Party (Let’s not kid ourselves, these guys are really just a remix of The John Birch Society) — I am sick of all you mouth breathing, knuckle-dragging, climate change denying, homophobic, racist, compulsive nose-pickers that are trying to drag us back into a time that never existed except in the dark, dank, fetid basement mind of Glenn Beck. You think he’s growing mushrooms down there? (Ooh, I’m sorry. That was an insult to fetid things.)

• Civil War Re-Enactments — We have one up here in Mariposa, California where no Civil War battle was ever fought. And the South lost the war. Why does anyone ever want to re-enact something they didn’t win? Talk about picking a scab. Is this a seasonal thing? A circuit? Do aficionados go from The Civil War straight to a Star Trek/Avatar Convention then off to a Renaissance Faire? How many costumes can one closet hold? Don’t you guys ever want to get laid?

• 4 and 5 inch Heels — Now, I like a pretty shoe and being tall as much as the next girl, but these backache making, nose bleed inducing, ankle snappers have got to go. Or, put a Chiropractor on retainer.

• America’s Got Talent — I hate ventriloquists and “America decides…” Hey…I just said that without moving my lips.

• Diva Singing — Howzabout exercising the concept of self-control and just sing the damn note? Vocalists nowadays sing so many runs it’s like being stuck in a diarrhea ward. STOP IT.

Okay — I think I’ve gotten it out of my system for now. Thank-you for indulging me, I feel better already. And may I return the favor by asking you: What are you pig-sick of?

“Mom, is it true things happen for a reason?” Casey’s green eyes fringed by impossibly curly brown lashes widened with anticipation at the possible confirmation that some benevolent force is at work that can explain why bad things happen to good people.

“Who the fuck said that?” I snapped. Okay, I didn’t really say fuck, but I wanted to.

This pithy, saccharine saw lodges in my ears like the stinking turd of stupidspeak that it is. And whenever someone says it, whether the person is my friend or not, I cannot suppress my outrage that anyone dare to explain away the immoral, indecent, unfair and—in many cases—avoidable crap that rains down on perfectly lovely people and takes their lives, their health, their finances and even their children in directions that should only be reserved for those whose full names end in Cheney, Bush, Wolfowitz or Rove.

Worried that the BP oil leak is leading to the end of sea life as we’ve known it? Not to fret, everything happens for a reason, ya know. No. I don’t know. What could possibly be the reason, smarty-pants? That this horrific event is the only way Americans can grasp the message that an oil-based energy system is bad? That assumption gives Americans’ collective intelligence way too much credit considering that this point has been driven home to us about once every five years since 1910, when more than nine million gallons soaked into Kern County, California, permanently despoiling hundreds of acres of once fertile farmland.

Your child was diagnosed with autism? No use being upset. After all, everything happens for a reason. Oh, yeah? Maybe the reason one of every 60 boys is now diagnosed with this disease is that the big shots in multi-billion dollar chemical corporations just don’t want the world to know that while they’re shoveling their obscene profits into offshore bank accounts, their products are melting the brains and gonads of generations of children all over the world.

You just lost your job? Well, you’ve always said you wanted to try something different, maybe now’s the time. Just remember, everything happens for a reason. Oh, I’ll remember all right, just after I remember to write down all those items that job I just lost was going to pay for—my children’s college education, my mortgage, my health insurance, my car payment…did I forget anything? Oh yeah, food, medicine, gasoline, clothes, my phone bill, heat, water, air conditioning and the kids’ braces.

The everything happens for a reason homily is right up there with things always work out for the best.

No they don’t. Tell me, please, what is working out about the war the U.S. is waging in Afghanistan. I really want to know. And so do thousands of families on both sides of this manufactured and uncalled for conflict; families like yours who have lost their children, fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers in unspeakably, bloody and painful deaths that would melt the rose off even Pollyanna’s glasses.

And how is firing thousands of teachers working out for tens of thousands of children whose families are one step away from illiteracy, actual and cultural, and already believe everything they hear on Fox News?

How is this upcoming generation of youngsters who confuse true leadership and intelligence with looking like cheer-leader-Barbie and hairspray-helmeted-Ken? How are they going to vote? For the candidate with the biggest hair, the whitest teeth and the highest cheekbones? God help us all.

The next time someone tries to embroider a shitty situation with platitudinous drivel, please forgive me in advance if I throw up all over them, preferably as they walk out the door to a black tie gala. And then, when their designer duds are drenched in stinky vomit, I dare them say, “Oh well. Everything works out for the best!”

So what horrific circumstance was Casey trying to rationalize? The gulf oil spill? Global warming? His own brain damage caused by a hospital error at his birth?

Casey explains: “That’s what Oogway says.” (For the uninitiated, Oogway is the kung fu master—who happens to be a tortoise—in Kung Fu Panda, a feature cartoon that takes place in China.)

Brilliant. Pre-packaged wisdom straight from the beak of a spokes-tortoise for a country that—intentionally or not—is overtaking ours on every front, profiting tremendously from our own willingness to swallow, whole-hog, idiotic platitudes like everything works out for the best.

If our children’s children are curious enough to question why they’re still paying interest to the Chinese for the money we borrowed to launch a war that accomplished nothing but the destruction of our own way of life, we can direct them to the golden tablet dug from a pile of bullshit, guarded by magical salamanders from the planet Xenon and upon which is written, Everything happens for a reason, stupid.

For Cathy Fischer, rudeness rears its ugly head and in some of the most unlikely places

Have you noticed lately that rude behavior has reached epic proportions? While Dear Abby and Miss Manners may have upped their game (they’re online after all), rudeness is still rampant. In twenty-first century America, hectic lifestyles, fractured families and ever-present technologies have enabled abundant opportunity for unconscious behavior, and frankly, I’m sick of it!

Case in point: The other day I was coming home from a lovely walk. Tra la la, it’s spring and I am in a good mood! As I approach my building, I see “him”—let’s call him Nathan (because, that’s his name). Nathan is a skinny, pasty, nerdy guy, around 40-ish. His social skills are lacking. That doesn’t bother me, what does is that Nathan has BAD MANNERS, as illustrated by his next move. He steps up the pace and makes a beeline for the front door. I know he’s seen me, but he doesn’t acknowledge that, and he most certainly does not hold open the door; and then, like a mangy little squirrel, he scampers to the elevator, jumps in the moment it arrives, and makes sure the doors close before I can possibly stop him. His strategy works, and I am left in the dust of his scampering nerdiness. I am aghast!

Yo Nate! Did your mother raise you that way?

Nathan’s is just one of the many examples of selfish behavior that’s wreaking havoc in America today. From loud cell phone talkers to inconsiderate drivers, teenagers texting at the dinner table to spoiled whining kids… I could go on and on.

The worst culprits of rudeness, however, are adults behaving badly. Take politicians, for example. Are they not supposed to be shining examples of decorum and proper behavior? So what’s up with those Tourette’s-like outbursts? And in the hallowed halls of Congress no less. “You lie!” (Rep. Joe Wilson). “Baby-killer!” (Rep. Randy Neugebauer). They leave me shaking my head in disbelief. Then there’s the tantrum throwing. I can just imagine it: John McCain, red faced, arms crossed, lips pursed, “There will be no cooperation for the rest of the year!” He stomps his foot and grabs his big bouncy ball. He’s going home! So there!!

Yo politicians! Did your mothers raise you that way?

Here’s what Miss Manners has to say about people behaving badly: “Etiquette doesn’t have the great sanctions that the law has. But the main sanction we do have is in not dealing with these people and isolating them because their behavior is unbearable.” Ahh yes, if only we could isolate those “unbearable” men and women, those politicians who masquerade as “compassionate adults” and under the guise of civil service.

Granted, I’m no Ms. Manners myself. I’ve been known to talk with my mouth full or interrupt conversation (a cultural specialty), but… when it comes to my fellow beings, humans and animals alike, I believe that small kindnesses go a long way. It is civility that keeps humans connected, linked to one another by common decency and respect. Acts of kindness make us better people. Remember the high school drivers’ education class motto, “Courtesy is contagious”? It’s true! I’ve experienced it time and time again. So Nathan, Joe, Randy and John, listen up, Courtesy is contagious! Put it into action. Make your mothers (and others) proud.

Untitled, Keith Herring

Carine Fabius is experiencing strange symptoms—her blood is boiling and her poor head…

Last month a photo in the Los Angeles Times showed a bunch of North Carolina protesters lying in wait for Obama as he headed to a town hall meeting on healthcare. Their handwritten signs shouted the following inanities:

“Free Market not Free Loaders”
“Obama-Care is Not For Us”
“No to Socialism”
“Government is Not the Solution to our Problems”

No wonder my head wants to explode.

A couple of months ago a visit with my gynecologist went like this: After a generous 20 percent discount (since I only have catastrophic insurance), I pay $232 for the office visit, which includes having blood drawn to check my hormone levels. I also pay $28 in advance for the lab work on my pap smear. Three weeks later I call to find out what the deal is with my hormones and am told that I need to make another appointment to go over the results with my doctor. And what will this cost me? $175, they say. I complain loudly at the fee and the need for another visit. Can’t we talk on the phone?

A phone consultation is arranged, and since I bitched, the ten-minute phone conversation costs me $75, which is still an outrage, but I pay it. What am I supposed to do with those mysterious numbers called test results? One week later I receive a bill for $363 from the hospital, which ran the blood panel. When I call the doctor’s office to ask if this is a mistake, I am told how fortunate I am that the bill is only $363. When I had mine done, the woman informs me, I got a bill for $800! My little adventure has cost me $698, and that’s only because I bitched.

On the heels of this sordid little escapade I hear a report on MSNBC that Republican Congressman Peter King of New York thinks healthcare reform is “not a major issue” for Americans. And the North Carolina sheep (along with the ignorant sheep from all the other states), who must think a $698 visit with a gynecologist is eminently affordable, fall all over themselves telling pollsters that healthcare reform is not a major issue. It is these very sheep who are responsible for the statistics that show weakening support on the matter.

No wonder my head wants to explode.

Added to all the other Republican shenanigans against healthcare reform are no less than the “Blue Dog” Democrats who will stop at nothing to derail substantive changes to the folly that passes as our current healthcare system. First of all, why do they get to call themselves Blue Dogs? That term sounds far too hip to be associated with those greedy, no-campaign-contribution-is-too-small, sellout mutha fuckas. My head wants to explode every time I even hear that term.

August is designated as PR month in the fight for significant reform. Now is not the time to get all inevitable on how this thing will play out—even though big Pharma has already won dramatic concessions from the White House, as in no importation of cheaper drugs from Canada or Europe; and the fees that doctors and hospitals charge are not even being addressed. Obama was always going to need his constituents’ help to get this thing done. Yep, that’s you and me (unless you fit in the sheep category).

Hit the streets, protest, make phone calls, sign petitions, send emails, write letters to the editor, give: $1/day or $30/month to the DNC for important ad campaigns. I’m pulling out my “Where’s the Outrage?” T-shirt—the one I bought back when George W. Bush dragged this country into war with Iraq.

My head wants to explode but I won’t let it. Don’t let yours explode either. Let it explode into action.

NASCAR is not a sport, Ann Coulter is not a woman, 98 percent of people who drink diet sodas are fat and there is no such thing as a healthy tan.

People who say, “To tell the truth…” are about to lie. Ditto for people who begin with “Truthfully,…” and “To be honest,….”

When an armed, confrontational policeman can enter your home without a search warrant, handcuff and arrest you for freaking out that he’s even there to begin with, our nation is already suffering from a more insidious form of government than the threat of a government willing to offer each and every American universal healthcare.

Anti-abortion protesters who bring their small children to demonstrate against women seeking safe and legal medical abortions deserve to have their children taken away from them and given to families who really care about children’s mental and emotional health.

Whenever anyone says, “It’s not about the money…” it really is all about the money. Really.

If you are married with very young children and your spouse earns a decent wage, working just to pay for extras like health club membership, a nice wardrobe, spa visits, fancy vacations, a luxury car and a nanny is silliness unless you believe that your time on this earth is best spent being a one-person stimulus package rather than investing in the most important human beings on earth, your children.

If people did their own cleaning and yard care, going to gyms to work up a sweat and stay in shape would be unnecessary.

The United States would be a healthier country if homeowners used the land and water devoted to their lawns to grow edible plants and food.

The surest way to cause family strife is to die and leave a pile of money and property to be divided between two or more heirs.

Sending children to preschool and childcare is the end of parents’ good health.

Corn syrup is killing Americans. Health insurance companies are working hard to kill off anyone that corn syrup missed.

The sound-byte mentality that began with Sesame Street laid the groundwork for Fox News and Twitter.

Science is real; the stories in the Bible can provide useful moral lessons but are not real and should not be cited in the same breath as scientific truths.

As long as 12-year-old girls are sold into marriage, as long as any woman’s worth is determined by her ability to bear children, as long as women are stoned for being with men who are not their husbands or relatives, all of humanity is in danger.

There is an inverse relationship between how much a wedding or bar/bat mitzvah costs and the amount of lasting joy it brings to those being feted.

When a woman driver and a man driver pull up to an intersection at the same time facing different directions, it doesn’t matter who is to the right. The man will go first.

Every home in a sunny climate should come equipped with a clothesline, clothespins and solar panels. And people who use them should get tax credits.

The words “double” and “wide” when used together are shorthand for all that is sad, truly sad, about America.

Having a full-time nanny care for you children when you don’t have a job or a debilitating disease is narcissism or laziness or both. In either case, you have too much money and should give it to me.

When will women stop being such people pleasers?

Case in point: “Goody Two Shoes” is an expression reserved for females. It conjures up images of a child, a dimpled Shirley Temple-type, in a starched white dress, bobby socks and Mary Janes. “No more Mister Nice Guy,” on the other hand, is reserved for men. Picture a driven, successful executive. Mad Men’s Don Draper comes to mind.

After watching the finale of Top Chef, I was peeved. The three remaining finalists, two men and one woman, were asked to cook a $100k-winning meal. I was enthusiastic about Carla Hall, a 44-year-old woman with her own catering business, a great sense of humor and a big heart; an underdog who eventually found her stride and became a real contender.

Carla has personality as big as her hair. She cooks with love, and is proud to say so, plus she has classic French training and southern roots to boot. But Carla did not win. Why? Because, like so many women, Carla is just too nice! 

The finale’s twist brought back three finalists from prior seasons to be sous chefs to the competitors. Carla was going to play up her culinary strengths, using her talent for French sauces and win, right? Wrong. When her sous chef, a woman named Casey, strongly suggested two changes to Carla’s carefully planned menu (mini soufflés and to cook the meat sous vide, a technique that Carla was unfamiliar with) Carla, being the typical people pleaser, agreed to do things Casey’s way. That was Carla’s downfall. The dishes that failed were the beef and the soufflé. My heart dropped, as did those sorry little soufflés. And then I got angry.

Why are so many women so frickin’ nice? We’re taught from an early age to smile and be good little girls. Have we come a long way baby? I think not. From generation to generation we’ve been playing nice—and where does that get us? Stuck in an elevator with a creepy person? Saying yes, when we really mean no? Getting overlooked for a promotion? When will we get the balls (a male accoutrement) to listen to our instincts and act upon them? Can women find the sweet spot between nice and nasty, and not be labeled bitches?

I fret if I think someone’s feelings might be hurt. What if, God forbid, I let someone down? Good daughter, good sister, good coworker, good patient…. “You’re so good for him,” said my ex-father-in-law about the Peter Pan husband, a comment that made my skin crawl. (Too good is what he really meant, but that’s another story.)

In an interview with New York Magazine Carla was asked, “So Casey wasn’t bossy or overbearing? She gave ideas and you liked them?” Carla politely answered that she was so grateful for the help that she gave her power away.

The LA Times Blog wrote: “…it was beyond painful to watch Carla second-guess herself out of the running, causing her to sob openly in front of the judges.”

We were sobbing with you Carla—and for so many reasons. Nice girls don’t win.

Yes, thank you.  I would like some change.

I’d like to get some change back for all over payments to banks—aka credit card companies—that have for decades used the flimsiest excuses to raise seductive introductory interest rates to loan shark levels that can never be repaid if you’re an average Jane.  Something tells me they’re about to get their comeuppance in much grander terms than mere coins…

I would also like some change from overpriced restaurants that do offer the pleasure of a night out without having to wash dishes, but can in no way justify charging $15.00 for a hamburger plus $6.50 for valet parking.  Trust me, I don’t often patronize these joints, but when you live in Los Angeles, it’s a safe bet you’ll end up in one without realizing how you got there.  And while I’m on the subject, yes, I would like change back from you, Mr. Valet Parker, when I give you a $10.00 bill to pay for bringing my car around.

Hello, United Airlines, American Airlines and all you other airlines.  Yes, I expect some change back when I have to cancel or reschedule a flight if I give you at least 24-hours notice.  Why is it that anyone can cancel a hotel room, a car rental, return a refrigerator or just about anything else, and get their money back or at least a credit without penalties?

Hi there, Parking Violations Bureau people.  Yes, I’ll take that change from the meters that grab my money but fail to work, forcing me to waste my time fighting parking tickets, just on principle.

Yes, Mr. Bush, I expect to get some change in the mail from my tax dollars spent on a stupid war that left Iraq in shambles, killed innocent civilians and soldiers and forever maimed human beings while enriching your friends.  Yes, Saddam Hussein is gone, but Iraqis are still waiting for at least some spare change from all that black gold in their backyards.

And, yes, Barack Obama!  I’ll take that Change, along with the hope and confidence you inspire. I’ll also take some fries to go with that Secret Weapon smile of yours!