The Advice Brigade

(Extemporaneously Delivered Rambling du jour)

The world is full of meddlers who all seem to think they know how you should conduct your personal affairs.

The interesting thing is that I don't have to ask for this advice, it comes my way gratis.

In ancient Greece, if a person wanted guidance, it involved a long arduous, expensive journey to the oracle of delphi. These days, if you want advice, just unplug your ears.

In addition to the traditional sources of advice givers - family, friends etc. there are also an unlimited number of professional and amateur advice peddlers. I call them the advice brigade.

Folks like Miss Cleo, Oprah, Dr Phil, personal trainers, credit counselors, image consultants, barbers ... just to name a few.

There's so much advice being peddled that one would think that pretty soon it will be impossible to make a mistake. But yet, people are still f-in-up.

In most instances, I suppose, advice is good, for example, The other day my wife tells me:

Ray, "Get your cholesterol checked" "Save for a rainy day" "floss regularly"

Did I listen? No. But it's still good advice nonetheless.

I ordered Chinese food the other day, after feasting on egg foo yung, I decided to open my fortune cookie. I realized right away that even fortune cookies are now giving advice. Instead of the traditional "you're going to come into wealth" that one might expect, my fortune read: "Be kind to your friends", I suppose that in an uncertain world, being kind to your friends could be considered a fortune that's worth it's weight in gold.

I digress.

Getting back to the subject at hand, why is it that those giving advice at times seem to be unqualified to do so? As in, their own lives are in shambles. I don't have the answers.

But my friend Joe puts it this way: "you only need one foot to be a crutch".

Joe, you are a philosopher, you are my oracle of delphi.

so, make no mistake about it, the advice brigade is here to stay and means well. From now on, I will evaluate advice based on its merits and then decide; but chances are, I will likely continue to take my own advice.

Harry steps up

Harry was on CNN last night chatting with Larry King. Larry asked him (among other things) if he would like to meet with Powell, his reply:

"I'd love to"

It's good to see that my advice was taken into consideration. The interview went just as I expected, Harry played the "my-words-were-taken-out-of-context" card well, I thought, but to his credit, his perspective was quite persuasive.

Meanwhile, our friend on the west coast, George, also takes a look at the subject and provides some interesting links and commentary.

CNN provides a full transcript of the interview.

Heidi, Tyra, ... thank you for visiting my "citi" and gracing it with your pleasant smiles, (among other things).

Smile and the world smiles with you.

Reefer Madness

John P. Walters, our nation’s never-say-die drug czar, made stops in Arizona and Nevada last week to denounce both states’ upcoming pot legalization votes. The Arizona measure, if passed by voters, would decriminalize possession of up to two ounces of marijuana, and ensure free pot for medical purposes (with a doctor’s recommendation). Similar measures are either under consideration or have already been passed by several other states, as well as in England and Canada.

This sort of thing really irks Walters. After all, you legalize it, what’s left for him to do, except maybe concentrate on drugs that actually hurt people?

Forget about it

Before the Mayor took office, he was asked if he intended to continue the previous Mayor’s crackdown on local strip clubs and adult bookstores.

At the time he refused comment, which I took to be a good sign.

It was a foolish thing to think, because not only is Mayor Bloomberg not dismantling anything, he’s rolling on ahead in an attempt to wipe out the sex industry altogether.

On Nov. 1, the New York Post is reporting, a new city ordinance is going into effect that will essentially ban all strip clubs and porn shops from New York City—despite the efforts by some club owners to stop this.

The debate began last week in Manhattan's supreme court with the "gentlemen's club" Tens arguing the city's new ordinance is unconstitutional.

It’s unclear what will happen to, say, gallery exhibits of nude photography, or the new Museum of Sex, or even Broadway shows like The Full Monty. But it doesn’t sound like the city really cares much about such implications.

9/11 widower allowed to remain in U.S.

I reported on this in previous post and it's good to see that matter has been resolved

A Russian immigrant, threatened with deportation after his wife was killed in the World Trade Center attack, will be allowed to remain in the United States.

Vasily Ryjov, 38 _ his face quivering with emotion _ told a packed news conference Monday that the decision in his favor by the Immigration and Naturalization Service meant that he and his two sons could "move on."

"Everyone needs closure. It's about life and moving forward," said Ryjov, sandwiched between sons Alex, 15, and Daniel, 9. "When something's not solved, you can't move forward."

Sen. Chuck Schumer, D-N.Y., who interceded on Ryjov's behalf, said, "They can stay here and lead their lives as proud Americans."

You might live in New York City if...

You say "the city" and expect everyone to know that this means Manhattan.

You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multilingual.

Your door has more than three locks and is made of steel.

You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the US pay on their mortgage.

You haven't seen more than 12 stars in the night sky since you went away to camp as a kid.

You pay $5 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28 cents.

You have 27 different take-out menus next to your telephone.

Going to Brooklyn is considered a "road trip." Of course, you only go there to attend weddings or funerals.

You have jaywalking down to an art form.

You take a taxi to get to your health club to exercise.

You don't hear sirens anymore.

You live in a building with a larger population than most American towns.

Your doorman is Russian, your grocer is Korean, your deli man is Israeli, your building super is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favorite bartender is Irish, your favorite diner owner is Greek, the watch-seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsstand guy is Indian, your favorite falafel guy is Egyptian, and your neighbor is Swedish...

The Big Apple

New Yorkers have a certain grit for which they are famous. In a melting pot country, there is no greater melting pot city than New York. Washington is perhaps next in cultural diversity, possibly followed by Miami and then Los Angeles.

But New Yorkers are known for a certain attitude, an ability to cope and deal with anything that comes their way, including the disdain, scorn and sometimes outright animus of others, even from nearby locations.

The fact is, we are a people of many peoples. We get along, either interacting or just living alongside each other with minimal interaction. Here, you’ll find the American Jew, living among Pakistanis and their mosque, right by a Catholic church, and nearby enclaves of people from the Dominican Republic, Polish immigrants, various middle eastern groups, a teeming Irish area, Chinese, Italian and communities of all sorts and so forth.

There is also a very large Haitian and Jamaican community. And, the numbers of Mexicans, Guatemalans, Ecuadoreans, and others from Peru, El Salvador and other countries from South and Central America seem to grow larger by the year. Yet, The majority of the people appear to be as American as Apple Pie.

The point is this: we all live alongside each other and we tend to get along.

For some, New York looms in the imagination as an almost mythical place, a vast organism of steel and glass and concrete that sprawls over several islands and sets its edges deep into the continental soil around its towering heart.

Eight million people call this legendary monstrosity home, each sees a different city, each functions as a different cell in the body of the Beast.

We are all here for the same reasons, and the same reasons our varied ancestors came here. This is a place of safety and certain freedoms, as well as opportunity.

Hey now, all you sinners
Put your lights on, put your lights on
Hey now, all you lovers
Put your lights on, put your lights on
Hey now, all you killers
Put your lights on, put your lights on
Hey now, all you children
Leave your lights on, better leave your lights on
Cause there's a monster living under my bed
Whispering in my ear
There's an angel, with a hand on my head
She say I got nothing to fear
There's a darkness, deep in my soul
I still got a purpose to serve
So let your light shine, into my hole
God, don't let me lose my nerve...

put your lights on / supernatural / santana

________

High Stakes for LI NY tribe

New York Newsday gas this story

When Abbie Langhorn was a girl in the early 1900s, land was a birthright on the Poospatuck Indian Reservation. She and her 11 siblings were all offered small plots near their great-grandmother's house on the Mastic reservation as they came of age. And when Abbie's sons and their children grew up, they, too, built modest houses within shouting distance of her lifelong home.

Somewhere down the line, though, the land ran out. "My great-grandchildren will have to live somewhere else," said Langhorn, 97, a petite woman in a blue-and-white flowered house dress and leather moccasins. "There's no place left for them here."

To keep the Unkechaug Indians together, tribe members this summer announced plans to take advantage of one of the few perks that they say their heritage allows them: The right to run high-stakes bingo on what they say is their ancestral land.

With proceeds from the business, they would either buy more property in Mastic, or hire lawyers to help them take back some of their ancestral land in the area. "Whichever is easiest," says tribe chief Harry Wallace.

Whether living in one of the two reservations on Long Island NY, the Shinnecock in Southampton and the Poospatuck Reservation in Mastic, are proud of their distinct cultural traditions and their survival as ethnic groups. The Powwow at Shinnecock may be the most visible manifestation of their identity, but other cultural patterns are equally important, including the continual struggle to protect, or reclaim, communal ownership of land, the renewal of family and tribal ties at traditional gatherings, distinctive foods and customs, as well as self identification and pride in being Native Americans.