Jeff Glovsky dot Net

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Death (of) Comedy

In the foolish, early days of April, the offensive, 'there is no there there' coverage of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370 became subsumed (at last!) ... though sadly, by yet another American gun massacre.

The latest Fort Hood shooter, apparently miffed because he was told "no" about something, and catapulted into infamy on April 2nd of this year, is not even the most recent entry on this terrible "list of rampage killers" (also check out the workplace edition!) ... admittedly -- tragically -- in the words of Wikipedia's editors, "an incomplete list, which may NEVER be able to satisfy (!) particular standards for completeness (WTF!?!)" (... emphases mine).

Oh, and David Letterman announced his retirement.

A few sad doorknobs unhinge and fall off of life's frame, and late night television shuffles again ... Ah, normalcy!  A relief!  Welcome respite!  from wild-eyed theories, internet queries, emotions and directionless everything regarding the lost airplane ... from search efforts to public statements to misplaced anger ...

Directionless.  No pride or shame (a flight simulator??) ...

No happy landing.

I was thinking this on a trip last week ... At the airport, an announcement in accented but unbroken English:

"Do not let your baggage out of your sight.  If a stranger approaches you, and asks you to watch or hold baggage, or you are asked to carry an item or gift, you should not comply.  You should report all suspicious activity to uniformed personnel or the airport police."

I was struck by the innocence of this entreaty.  Simple strangers bearing gifts ... One should tell the police ... How 20th century!

It's high time the world's airports scale up their public service announcements to reflect the potentials of this day and age:

"If your plane disappears or falls out of the sky, or you see a passenger punching a flight attendant (or vice versa!) -- or a group of histrionics annoying other passengers -- please use your cell phone camera to share."

* * * 

A Death of Self

... would've loathed what the internet has become

The Vacuum Sucks (Make It Stop)

"Everybody gets so much information all day long that they lose their common sense." - Gertrude Stein

During the past month or so, I've been out of touch.  Chilling in my Lederhosen, watching fulsome Fräulein frolic, I made the Fehlentscheidung of finding CNN one day.

Fuck.

As if glum-looking Martin Savidge, actually inserted in a flight simulator (!) to add his reportage to the Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370 saga, were not enough ... there was also professorial Don 'Is It Preposterous?' Lemon, delighting in his role as head of the class; a sitcom's worth of, so I'm told, recurring characters, offering "analysis" and fielding Twitter questions!  There was this weatherman ... thrilled to be part of an actual news something, putting his expertise about radar to use ... and there was long-time CNN friend, weird Richard Quest.  Although not nearly as off-putting -- loathsome, really -- as certain of his unnamed colleagues ... Weird Richard is (also) nonetheless no Larry King ... and seemed as uncomfortable being part of the nightly MH370 sitcom, as it made me uncomfortable to be staring at, into, its terrible vacuum.

Thus trembling with empathy, unable to sleep, I step out into the early morning night and gaze upward ... The pierce of the Morgen fills me with all manner of repulsions, as I think about the pain of the flight victims' families:  that is, the helpless, being eaten alive, gnawing suffering from being subjected to this cruel ('Savidge') joke ... an early, unending April Fool's gag (a flight simulator?  Really??) ... and feeling, as well, the joke's perpetrators' own sense of shame and embarrassment.

I felt for Weird Richard!  Squirming there, the day I tuned in ... and Unsmiling Martin ... both clearly unwanting to be part of the gag, but contractually forced to try and put it across.

It was literally the most wince-inducing 3 minutes I've spent, doing anything, in quite some time.

Now, as somewhere a prideful Hund barks in German ... and feet clop, with purpose, to unlock a parked car ... the stars dim, with my hopes of ever being informed.
 

* * *

Thoughts with Malaysia Flight MH370 ...

In Which I Save the Deal

Dear Prospective Tenant,

Regarding my apartment in Miami, Florida:

In case you have 'disappeared' because of something you found online about me, I will state unequivocally that most of what you may have read, stemming from a business failure in 2010, is one-sided, emotionally driven, willfully malicious and/or false.

Anything from 2013 is 100%

"and Defamatory", ©Jeff Glovsky

That said:  my apartment is available to you for the dates we've discussed, and to which we contractually agreed.

If you don't want to pay 6 months in advance without seeing or receiving the key to the property, of course I understand.  But obviously, I cannot just hold my apartment for you and hope you'll arrive.  I'm sure you can understand this.

If you don't wish to move forward with our signed contract at all, it's okay.  But if this is the case, and it's due to something you have read online about me - to be honest, you are doing yourself a disservice.

I would appreciate the courtesy of a response please, one way or another.

Thank you,
Jeff Glovsky

* * *
Addendum:  Thank you, Dr. G., for 're-appearing' ... in fact, responding ... for listening rationally, understanding and deciding to move forward and rent my property (as many have done before you, satisfactorily and without drama or incident, before and since my business, name and reputation collapsed in 2010).

Enjoy your stay.

(Audio-) VISUELL

You are being watched.

Your movements, actions are recorded .... Chased and captured, space and time ... Pasted, cut up, posted up on places, Facebook!  Websites you don't know or use.

You move freely ... But you're seen.  You are collected, grouped and categorized, followed and recognized by eyes unseen ... Obscene!

But I like to keep things light between us ... When I follow you with eyes unseen, I blur the lines.  I don't name names, or "tag" or claim to be your "friend" ... but I watch too.

You're being seen.

Jeff Glovsky.net - VISUELL

Cold, War and Otherwise

Though spring has sprung in Deutschland, in the States, the cold weather's unrelenting and winter storms -- for some reason, christened like hurricanes now! -- keep howling and blowing.

Also howling and blowing is western media, every time there's a new "global conflict".  Usually so ridiculously narrow and self-interested, reporting breathlessly the "breaking" news of Oscar night parties, celebrity deaths (all too often, self-inflicted) ... and/or imperious, like dolts in a small town, poking fun at perceived foibles: "Sochi problems", for example, or an "inept" investigation (or the opposite: escalating random acts of breathing -- those naturally occurring, every day things we all do because we're supposed to, and most of us are wired that way -- into newsworthy, larger than life acts of "heroism") ...

Where was I?

Oh, right.  So usually the media, particularly in the US and UK, is carrying on this way, perpetuating its curious combination of smug isolationism and Big Stick condescension, the whole time relying on unpaid contributors to file "i-reports", in order to fill all the 24/7 content platforms) ... but Vladimir Putin "takes" Crimea, and suddenly, hot.cool.Sochi gets forgotten; the meaningful Paralympics all but ignored, and CNN and the US start clucking, 'What to do about UKRAINE?'.

Geopolitically speaking, the US should have nothing to do with Ukraine.  The people of Crimea are speaking, and they seem to prefer not to be part of 'the west'.  This (so far) peaceful expression of self-determination should be recognized, in fact, allowed.

Beyond this simple statement of what seems, to me, obvious, I offer no public opinion.  My thoughts on politics, like religion and like my home address, telephone number, love and sexual doings that actually matter to me, are private, and will remain that way ... at least until they matter less, and/or I am ready to "share" them.

Does this mean, though, that I can't opine?  I don't have a politcal thought, or opinion?

"Gloaming Looming", ©Jeff Glovsky

Once I was sitting outside a jazz club where I used to mix sound.  It was a beautiful spring night, and I stepped out of what was, at that time, the stereotypical smoke-filled room to gulp in some fresh air.  It was during a bass solo ... These always tended to go on forever anyway, so I figured I had a few minutes, at least, before the singer would come in again and start gesticulating (wildly) toward her ear, suggesting (none too subtly) that she wasn't able to hear herself, or the piano.

As I was sitting there, pleasantly digging the gloaming, this homeless guy shuffles up to me and says, "Nice night, huh?"  He sits down on the brownstone stoop beside me, and offers up something about the second Gulf War ...

Well, I'd always been taught, and took pains to adhere to, the common sense adage about not talking to strangers.  I took this literally, and to this day -- fast-tracking to fifty (!) years old -- I struggle with its application.  Innately shy, to the point of awkwardness, if not coming across as 'differnt' (as in, 'that boy ain't right!') in most social settings, I was struck even dumber by my new companion's next and final communication.

After commenting about G. Dubya Bush, our troops in Iraq and September 11th -- all still very fresh wounds at the time -- and receiving zero response from me, this homeless guys says, "Man, I thought you were an asshole, but you might just be stupid."

Then sneeringly, he shuffles off.

I go back inside the jazz club, not offended or defensive, but really struck by what the homeless guy just told me: that I was an asshole, but I might also be stupid.  I'd never thought of myself as "stupid".  Throughout my academic career, with the exception of some shaky punctuation, Geometry in high school and five years of college, it was always the opposite!

But as I made my way back toward my sound booth that night, noticing that not only had the bass solo ended but the first set as well ... that the house lights were on, the stage was empty (though an amp was buzzing) and people were standing up to leave ... it occurred to me the homeless guy was probably right.