Enough Fighting! The Solution: Start From Common Ground

It seems like nowadays, there’s constant conflict with no end in sight between groups with opposing ideologies. “I’m right, you’re wrong” conversations based on judgment have overshadowed actual conversations focused on solutions, and enough is enough!
Instead of telling all of you fierce Democratic debaters and Republican retaliators that you’re wrong for your behavior, I’m here to present a solution.
In order to get anything done, it’s important to begin from a common origin – common ground, if you will – and the common ground is an issue I think we can all agree on: ambrosia salads need to be banished.
Forgotten.
Exiled to the annals of history.
And then those annals need to be burned.
If you disagree, you’re what’s wrong with the world today.

Thanksgiving is coming up, and for some reason, we all have a distant relative who decides it’s a great idea to bring a bowl of fruit, marshmallows, and some sort of creamy, disgusting, dairy-based mixture to keep the party going.
This is why you’re a distant relative, Aunt Patty!
Really, have you ever been to a holiday potluck and thought, “Thank god someone brought the ambrosia!”? You haven’t!
It’s one of those foods that’s there, but you only take one tiny scoop so as not to hurt anyone’s feelings.
Then people act surprised when there’s so much left over, and they try to pawn it off on everyone else.
“Take some home! There’s so much left over!”
There’s a reason: it looks like the after photo of what happens in a garbage disposal!

First of all, the name sounds like a skin condition – “Stop scratching! You’re making your ambrosia worse!” – but is actually more arrogant in origin.
It references the food of the Greek gods.
Point me to the immortal being who orders the ambrosia, because Zeus ain’t standing for that shit.
Your ass is banished from Mount Olympus!

Ambrosia salad is what you make when you’re broke and all you have left is Del Monte fruit cocktail, Cool Whip, marshmallows, and the pecans you found in the back of the cupboard from last year’s Thanksgiving.
If I were starving to death and you offered me ambrosia, I’d take a heaping spoonful of death.
How this dish keeps appearing on tables at holiday gatherings is beyond me.
When my mom makes sweet potatoes, people ask her to make it again the next year.
When someone makes ambrosia salad, people ask them to never come back:
“Maybe go spend next year with the other side of the family.”
But alas, they’re back, and with a fresh bowl of vomit, completely ignoring the explicit context clue that no one even touched their heaping bowl of why white people need to check themselves last year.
Yet, there they are.
“Guess what I broooooought! Everyone’s favorite!”
This needs to end.
Now.
Democrats!
Republicans!
Heed my words: ambrosia salads need banned, and that’s something you can all reach across the aisle about.
If President Trump tweeted his disdain for the dish, it would be his most liked and least controversial tweet EVER.

I’m not saying that banning ambrosia salad is going to unite all sides on all issues, but starting from common ground and working towards solving other, more controversial issues is much more productive than starting from dissenting points of view.
If we admit that we share a perspective with even our most fervent of detractors, the stereotypes that come to mind when we think of our rivals dissipate, and we see the human behind the label.
Unless the human likes ambrosia salad, in which case I hope they get struck by lightning. Twice for good measure. Because Zeus ain’t standing for that shit.

Create Your Year

Happy New Year, everyone! It’s a brand new blog post for a brand new year! Enjoy =)

What does a year mean to you? A year in the past, some year in the future, or this year, each means to us what we decide for it to mean. The story we tell ourselves about our year and how it impacted, is impacting, or will impact us is really what determines our perception of that year, not the year itself. We’re all excellent storytellers in this way. Think of your favorite movie, play, or TV show. Each and every one of these stories has several stories contained within it. Individual characters each have a story they’re telling themselves about their lives and the situations they find themselves in. “I’m going to avenge the death of my father,” is the result of one character telling himself a story about loss, anger, and vengeance. It’s not the death of his father that inspire his actions, it’s the story he tells himself about the event. This story is different from the person who actually committed the murder: “He needs to be killed to keep me and my family safe.”

When we say, “F you, 2016,” and sit behind a computer, telling ourselves a story about how bad the year was for us, we miss out on the potential to tell a story centered around opportunity. When we look at past years, months, weeks, days, or moments, we can create something that grows us, rather than something that confines us to a singular choice. It all begins with the question: “In what ways was this experience an opportunity?” Which can very easily inspire follow-up questions such as, “What did I do well?” “What can I get better at?” “What are some things I learned that I can use, knowing what I now know?”

When we look at future years, it’s self-defeating to say, “I hope this is going to be a good year,” because the year itself has no control over how your year goes. That’s like blaming your ex-girlfriend’s apartment for the fact that she broke up with you while you were both inside of it. True, events are going to happen outside of our control, but it’s our response that determines what happens next, or whether it’s a “good” or “bad” year. For you to have a “good” year, what would have to happen? What does it look like? What goals would you have to achieve?

Now, look at this year, month, week, day, or moment and say, what can I do in this timeframe, knowing what I learned from the past to create what I want in the future? No matter what obstacles, roadblocks, or tragedies mar your path, an awareness of how to consciously take a step back, assess your past, future, and present to tell a more helpful story will help ensure your power over an arbitrary unit of time created by our ancestors to learn when to plant crops. Create your year. Create your day. Create your moments. Create your story. Create your life.

 

Check Your Privilege, Kermit

EVERY. YEAR.

Every damned year, Al Roker/Matt Lauer and whatever physically appealing female co-anchor that happens to be working for NBC go flipping crazy when that Kermit balloon appears in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. All we hear about is how everyone loves him, how he’s one of the main attractions, and then there’s some obligatory joke about Miss Piggy. The heaps of praise and unwavering love for this frog isn’t equal to the love for many of the other balloons and I say, “No more!”

Where’s the praise for cartoon characters? Corporate mascots? And there’s not even a Caitlyn Jenner balloon; it’s blatant disrespect.

Check your privilege at the door, Al Roker. There’s more to this parade than just Muppets.

What about Sonic the Hedgehog? “There’s Sonic. He’s making his 6th appearance in the parade.” That’s it!? That’s all you got!? No mention of his rings or the fact that he SAVED THE WORLD FROM DR. ROBOTNIK!?

Hello Kitty? They’re just like, “Hello, Kitty. So anyway, how’s your turkey coming, Hoda?”

When Bart Simpson appears, it’s a bullying slugfest. “What trouble will he get into this year?” “He’s probably been up to some mischief.” What, because he’s yellow that automatically means he’s been doing something mischievous?  Get off your high horse, NBC.

I’m sick of the puppet privilege this amphibious ass gets every. single. stinkin year! Enough is enough!

When you see that smug son of a salamander snake his way onto your screen, switch off the set and watch something that DOESN’T rub puppet privilege in our faces. Like football.

Big Bird too! Such an avian a-hole.

Just watch and see what I mean. How do you think the other balloons feel about all of the attention these Muppets get? It’s time to take a stand. I, for one, won’t be watching the parade and will be watching Home Shopping reruns. I won’t be shopping at Macy’s anymore either because I can’t, in good faith, give my money to a corporation who obviously doesn’t care about equality. Join me in my defiance and let’s tell the man that we won’t stand for this inflatable injustice any longer!

Krush Kermit

The Real Reason You Should Boycott Starbucks

“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you?”

“Grandé soy milk latté. No whip.”

The familiar gurgly whir (that’s the noise it makes, right? A gurguly whir?) of milk being steamed commenced as I waited in anxious anticipation for my beverage, served in the familiar, festive cup I’ve come to expect this time of year.

“David?”

Finally.

But I stopped when I saw it sitting on the counter. Something was amiss. “Oh… I’m sorry but my cup is red.”

“Yeah. It’s our holiday cup this year.”

Holiday cup?” I could feel the blood rising to my face. How dare they call my blank red cup a “holiday” cup. There was nothing holiday about it. “To which holiday do you refer?”

“Christmas.”

There it was. I went from irritated to infuriated.

“Christmas? Christmas!? What about your brown Thanksgiving cups!? What happened to those?”

“We’ve never had-”

“Oh, you’re a liar now? You’ve never had my ass! Every year, come November, I look forward to coming into Starbucks, ordering a coffee, and getting it in a brown paper cup. What is wrong with the world!?”

The barista had no answers for me. Neither did the police officers who removed me from the premises. That’s why I’m boycotting Starbucks. That’s why you should boycott Starbucks too. It’s an absolute outrage.

Last time I checked, Thanksgiving was a holiday. Last time I checked, Thanksgiving falls in November and Christmas in December. Last time I checked, no pilgrims died to celebrate Christmas. The pilgrims came to this country just to share a meal with the Native Americans and you, Starbucks, have the nerve to call these red cups “holiday” cups!? The real holiday is Thanksgiving!

I said nothing two years ago when Starbucks removed the black pilgrim hat lids from their Thanksgiving cups. Last year, when they did away with the Indian headdress cup accessory, I did nothing. But this? This is too far! They’re not even allowed to say, “Happy Thanksgiving!” They told me to “Have a nice day.” Tell me, Starbucks, if the pilgrims were alive today and came into one of your stores, how do you think they would feel if you handed them a red cup instead of a brown one? Let that sink in.

The cornucopia decorations have been replaced by holly, faux snow, and snowmen. I’m hearing “Deck the Halls,” “Carol of the Bells,” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” instead of the cheery melodies of Thanksgiving carol classics such as “Away in a Mayflower,” “The Little Injun Boy,” and “The Pilgrim Who Died of Hypothermia.” The festive flavors of mashed potato mochas, green bean lattés and turkey hot chocolates have gone missing in favor of peppermint, gingerbread, and eggnog. Something is very wrong with this picture, so here is my call to action:

BOYCOTT STARBUCKS

And if you do go to Starbucks, tell them your name is Happy Thanksgiving. They have to write it on your cup. That’ll show them! How dare they belittle my pilgrim ancestors! How dare they minimize the reason for the season! How dare they take the Thanksgiving out of Thanksgiving! Join me in starting a movement! Tweet out #happythanksgivingstarbucks. Wear your buckle hats and bring your bows and arrows into Starbucks to offend them. Don’t be politically correct, just be correct.

Oh yeah, and HAPPY THANKSGIVING