The Oppenheimer Report - 11/28/11

I watched the Macys Day Parade on TV for the first time in a long time. Behind the annual and world famous Buffalo Turkey Trot, that parade ranks highly on my list of Thanksgiving traditions. In the past ten years, we usually missed it because we’d arrived in Buffalo at 3AM Thanksgiving morning and were still asleep, or because we were scrambling to get out of Toronto in gridlock traffic. The one good thing about no more Thanksgivings at my parents’ house is that we also missed the frenetic scramble to travel on a major holiday. When I turned on the TV Thanksgiving morning, cup ‘o joe in my hand, the first thing I saw was a giant Sponge Bob Squarepants floating by Macy’s department store. Now that’s entertainment! Did you know Sponge Bob has a Facebook page and 28 Million followers? I have about 120 Facebook “friends,” about 114 more than I have in the real world. Here’s a Helium filled balloon fun fact: one half mile of fabric was used to make the Kung Fu Panda balloon. Snoopy as the WWI Ace is still my favorite balloon. I love that parade. How often do you see giant floating cartoon characters parading through Times Square?

Since police have forced the evacuation of the various makeshift Occupy Wall Street Hoovervilles throughout North America, I have decided to pick up the torch and form an Occupy Katrine protest. Granted, our little town of Katrine ranks low on the corporate greed scale, but I feel honor bound to make my symbolic gesture in support of the plight of the countless victims of Big Money. I’m having a little trouble because, other than one church and the marina, there isn’t really a business district here. We own a piece of land near the marina; maybe I’ll occupy that. Honey, where’d you store my 40 Below sleeping bag? One of my friends made me laugh the other day when he referred to this ubiquitous protest as “Occupy Everywhere and Bitch About Everything While Tweeting on the $400 Drone That Mom Gave Me” movement. A bit cynical perhaps, but  containing a kernel of truth as well.

At present, we’re involved in two small building projects which, if all goes as planned, should be completed before the big snow flies. As of Friday, we have an almost-completed garden shed in which to put all the essential landscaping tools which have for the past three or four years accumulated on our front porch. The next project is the demolition and reconstruction of our pump house, which at present, looks somewhat like a wood-framed parallelogram. That project begins this week, and I am looking forward to getting out my holiday aggressions with a crow bar and a sledge hammer. Ho friggin’ ho.

Last week, for no particular reason, I found myself craving some retro TV, and I PVR’d (new verb) two old shows I remember from my early youth. The first show I recorded was The Rifleman starring Chuck Connors. Some of you are old enough to remember him playing the tough-but-fair-single-father vigilante Lucas McCain, whose wife probably died in a gun-related accident and whose family later went on to found a French fried potato empire in Canada. We used to call him “Mucous” McCain, and my favorite part of the show is, hands down, the opening credits. You know from the get go that Mucous is one “bad ass mo-fo” simply by the way he glares at the camera as he indiscriminately fires off his rifle walking down the main street of town. I can sum up the plot of every episode of The Rifleman this way: Bad guys ride into town, Lucas struggles with the dichotomy of his good and evil selves, but ultimately ends up vastly outnumbered in a gunfight wherein he shoots all the villains to death (and probably a few stray town folk) with his wild west version of an automatic weapon. The whole show is a send up to Mucous pureeing a bunch of bad guys with his lightning fast, repeat action Winchester rifle. The filler in the middle is ludicrous. The second show I recorded was the uber-wholesome Father Knows Best starring Robert Young (Marcus Welby) and Jane Wyatt, who later went on to play Mr. Spock‘s mother. It’s interesting to me how deeply television was in the morality business back in the 60s. Kind of a departure from today’s prime time TV shows like Jersey Shore, where skanks and hos rule. I find it interesting that there are now two contemporary retro shows on TV, Mad Men and Pan Am which attempt to paint a more realistic picture of life back in the 60s. Now that “Black Friday” has come and gone, the starting pistol for the holiday retail madness, I eschew the holiday craziness, instead immersing myself in the narcosis of must-see Christmas TV. Two vastly different holiday scenes stick in my mind: Jimmy Stewart coming to the epiphany that his really IS a wonderful life as he stands on the bridge overlooking snowy Bedford Falls, and Dan Akroyd in Trading Places, disheveled and drunk on a bus, wearing a ratty Santa suit, ravenously tearing the flesh off a whole salmon with his teeth.

I’m bracing myself emotionally for the season of artificially induced good cheer. Remember when parents got into fist fights to grab the last Tickle-Me Elmo doll on the shelves? Ah, those were the days! I can’t wait to learn what holiday atrocity will present itself this year. I hope nobody beats up Santa again.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/21/11

Every so often, a hot button topic comes up that prompts me to resurrect one of my many pet peeves. Last week, there was a piece on the news about a Canadian woman suffering from advanced ALS who is asking the courts to grant her an assisted suicide. According to one poll, 46% of Canadians think assisted suicide should be legalized and another 30% feel that it should be allowed under certain circumstances. Like all right to life issues, this is a contentious debate, and a recent study in Canada brought the issue to the forefront by suggesting that the majority of Canadian families are woefully unprepared to make end-of-life decisions. Having just finished this complicated journey, I implore my readers to be pro-active about it. Talk to your loved ones, old and young, and figure out a way to confront these difficult decisions about end-of-life care. At least have the conversation, because like it or not, it will come back to haunt you if you don’t. I feel the rights of the individuals and their families take precedence in cases of terminal illness. For the most part, I’m pro choice, though I’m not sure I'm completely on board with euthanasia. Euthanasia is only one of the options for end-stage care, and certainly not the only alternative. I get the argument that there is a huge potential for abuse with euthanasia, especially when elders are involved, but I think in a case like an ALS victim, this really should be up to the patient and his or her family. Medical ethicists and religious experts can debate this issue until the end of time, but when people suffer horrible, painful, extended terminal illnesses, I think they should be allowed a morsel of dignity. If I am of sound mind, I want the right, if possible, to control how I die. Morphine baby, and lots of it.

When I first heard about Jerry Sandusky and last week’s Penn State football scandal, I thought Sandusky was being accused of fooling around with college players on the Penn State team. I thought to myself, that was inappropriate and wrong, but the victims were adults, and capable of making their own decisions. When I found out that Sandusky was caught sodomizing a 10 year old boy and I heard him in an interview saying he was just “horsing around” I was genuinely appalled. Some people think Catherine the Great was “horsing around.” So far, 20 victims have come forward to accuse Sandusky, and maybe this is the tip of the iceberg. Now some coach in Syracuse is under investigation on unrelated sex crimes. Pedophilia is pretty close to the worst crime I can think of, and if Coach Paterno knew that his assistant coach was doing these horrible things and did nothing, well, I think that is wrong. He in fact allowed a pedophile to continue to offend. Two thousand Penn State students rioted in the streets when Paterno was fired, angry that their icon was let go in disgrace. People, get your priorities straight! Paterno had a stellar 46 year career as coach of the Penn State Nittany Lions, but he looked away and children were hurt. Here’s something else that just sounds wrong: I read that the 10 top execs at Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac earned $12.8 Million in bonuses last year. Pay is down 40% since the 2008 crash, but WTF, didn’t we the taxpayers bail these bozos out to the tune of $170 Billion?! And I understand that those “Super Committee” clowns failed to come up with ANY of the necessary $1.2 Trillion in cuts. Hard to gripe about European leaders when we’re just as bad or worse. I say we form a committee to oversee the committee. Ugh. On the other end of the decency spectrum, did any of you see the story about Congresswoman Gabrielle Gifford’s recovery over the past eight months? She’s the Arizona Congresswoman who was shot in the head by a deranged gunman. Now, less than a year later, she’s walking and talking again, and her astronaut husband videotaped her courageous journey back. He has written a book about it as well. I love hearing these stories about strong individuals fighting adversity. I’m not sure I agree with Mrs. Gifford’s politics, but wow, what a strong and inspiring woman.

Finally, there was a story on the news the other day about animal rights activists who feel we should not eat turkey on Thanksgiving. Turkeys are apparently more intelligent than people understand, and some feel they should not be slaughtered for our food. Does this mean I have to stop eating dolphin as well? This (American) Thanksgiving will be the beginning of the rest of my life. I am thankful for what I have had, and I embrace the ever-changing maelstrom which is time and space. I guess it’s time to dig out Mom’s killer sweet potato recipe and quit my whining. I am thankful for so many things, including that I have this outlet for my thoughts and feelings, and that some of you indulge me and share those thoughts and feelings with me. Thank you to my twelve loyal readers, and to my Yankee friends, have a good bird. To my Canadian cronies: gentlemen, start your snowblowers!

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/14/11

Noteworthy date: 11/11/11. A shout out to all the veterens who have fought for our country. Thank you for my freedom.

Down in Buffalo last week for a meeting with the estate lawyer and some other people, I spent the week sorting through more papers and personal effects, making the difficult decisions about what to keep and what to toss. So many photographs! And everywhere there are notes, postcards, or letters in Mom’s or Dad’s handwriting. Dad wrote so many things down. He had one little notebook I found in his desk describing various fox hunts in which he participated. Why did he do that for heaven’s sake? These days, we’d call those accounts “tweets” excepting that I’m not sure for whom those unspectacular notes were intended. I suspect that the ever popular Kim Kardashian has a much bigger following. “I like just bought the most bitchin’ shoes!”

Somehow, I had compartmentalized the loss of my parents. Of course I grieved when they passed away, but a little voice in the back of my head said “Stay focused, there’s a lot to get done now.” Gradually, what was our home for over fifty years is now being struck down like a stage set. My childhood home is now a real estate listing, and that is just now starting to soak in. With Thanksgiving fast approaching, and given that this was my favorite holiday of the year, the one I was lucky enough to spend every one of the last 53 years celebrating at 140 Chapin Pkwy, Thanksgiving 2011 is going to be weird. Cleaning out the freezer I found some turkey stuffing from last year’s celebration, and I thought I’d take it up to Katrine to have on Thanksgiving this year, but like so many things I left behind, it’s still in that freezer.

Here’s an interesting story. While I was down last week, our listing agent called me up to warn me that she’d be walking some people from the Buffalo News through the house. They are going to be featuring the house in an upcoming weekend real estate publication called Home Finder and they wanted to walk through to take some pictures. I have an aversion to history that dates back to several insufferably boring history teachers I had in high school, and I have never really learned much about our house. Strange, considering I’d lived there for 25 years of my life. It turns out that the architect, Edward Austin Kent, who designed many of the prominent buildings in Buffalo, was also noteworthy for being the one and only Buffalonian to perish on the Titanic in 1912. Our house was built in 1911, and it was likely one of Kent’s last commissions. The story goes that when Kent, who by all accounts acted heroically in the last hours of his life, was helping an elderly lady named Mrs. Helen Candee onto one of the few lifeboats available, she handed him an ivory miniature of her mother to hold onto in his final hours. Mrs. Candee survived, and later, when Kent’s body was recovered, the ivory miniature was found in his pocket, and subsequently returned to her. History means much more to me when it becomes the story of exceptional individuals.

Mini rant. With the latest debt crises in Europe, it is clear to most people with even a tenuous grasp on reality that the party is over. Austerity measures are painful and widespread. Fortunes have and will continue to be lost. Still, there are riots in the streets and everyone seems to think that this is someone else’s problem. Chris Collins, the Republican now ex- Erie County Executive was given his walking papers last Tuesday night when he was defeated by pro-union Democrat, Country Comptroller Mark Poloncarnz. Had I not been down in Buffalo on election day, I probably wouldn’t have blinked an eye, but this particular election was to me symbolic of what is broken in American (and world) politics. I defy our proposed leaders to actually do the unpopular thing and lead. So far I have not seen a presidential candidate who comes close to fitting the bill. Clearly, we’re all going to pay more taxes and services will be cut; I simply want someone to show some responsibility and state clearly how we can navigate through this mess. I’ll wager that most of the uncertainty in financial markets is directly related to the fear that leaders don’t know how or are too afraid to make the tough decisions. Collins treated Erie County like a business, and he made a lot of unpopular decisions. He was by many accounts, arrogant and not very likable. As best I can tell, Collins lost because he cut spending in Erie County and didn’t sugar coat the pain. He did what he said he was going to do, and that is apparently political suicide. He lost the beauty contest. I will be interested to see if Mr. Poloncarnz improves the welfare of the residents of Erie County by keeping his campaign promises.

This year, my Thanksgiving will be a tribute to the memory of my parents. Mom and Dad, thank you for making my life so wonderful. No more whining (for now). Nothing lasts forever: it’s time to form new traditions. Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 11/7/11

Two stories about the bowels of humanity. First story: In the “New Words” department: Kar-bash-ian. It’s the latest blood sport in Hollywood! Kim Kardashian divorced her husband Kris Humphries after around 70 days and everyone (read me) is righteously indignant. Not as short-lived as the Rodman/Electra nuptials, and hey, at least she gave it a chance. Another new word: Kar-cash-ian.  Kim earnestly denies any ulterior motive in wedding earnings, rumored to be in the vicinity of $17 Million, and insists she married for love. Selling the television rights to your wedding is a bit of a red flag, but who am I to judge? Second story: A divorced couple in Western New York is presently fighting over the estate of their deceased teenage daughter. The estranged father, who stiffed on child support while girl was still alive, and who never even chipped in for the funeral expenses, feels he is entitled to a piece of the action. Now that’s class.

Kent Couch from Oregon is planning on an aerial flight to Iraq in a lawn chair attached to helium-filled party balloons. So far his longest flight was from Oregon to Idaho, about 200 miles. This Iraqi trip, in which he’ll pair up with an Iraqi daredevil, is about 400 miles, and will require higher altitudes as well as oxygen masks. Let’s ignore the fact that any moron with a rifle could probably clip his wings … Iraq? If my geography is correct, isn’t that right next to Iran? Didn’t we just rescue (read pay money to Iran to release) some Americans who bumbled across the Iraq/Iran border? I found it interesting that the story indicated that Couch’s wife was all for the stunt. Trouble in paradise? Is there a life insurance policy? May Allah go with you.

In American politics, Herman Cain, The Great Black Hope, is starting to get the predictable bad press as his political enemies start to perceive him as a credible threat for the Republican nod. Allegations of sexual harassment are starting to surface (3 so far), and may scuttle him before he can gain real momentum. Anybody remember Gary Hart? I remember he had a yacht called "Monkey Business." It might be a witch hunt, but with the right spin doctors, it could be fatal to Cain’s bid. Some pundit suggested that the bad news was leaked by Democrats, because Democrats hate black conservatives. There was much discussion about the similarities to the Anita Hill/Clarence Thomas scandal back when Thomas was being vetted for Supreme Court Justice. I wrote a very lame rap parody about that scandal called It’s Not the Meat It’s the Motion Denied which, thankfully, no one has ever heard. I’m confused about what kind of a leader we need to guide us out of this mess we‘re in. Recent history does not suggest that Washington outsiders get the job done. Obama has certainly hit a wall, and we all remember what a crappy president Jimmy Carter made. The Perots, and the Trumps, and the Cains all sound like good leaders when they’re campaigning, but none of them can handle the Washington cluster f-ck when the going gets tough. I think we need someone dirty (again). Remember that infamous campaign slogan from the 70s? “Don’t change Dicks in the middle of a screw, vote for Nixon in ‘72.”

More problems at that Fukishima nuclear power plant in Japan, where there is new evidence that nuclear fission is still taking place in the crippled plant. I always figured it would be human error or a terrorist attack that precipitated a major nuclear power plant disaster, but once again, Mother Nature beat us to the punch. The Greek debt crisis continues to threaten other European economies, as well as North American markets, and this week’s government shenanigans didn’t help matters any. Andy Rooney, curmudgeon/writer who was one of the last living pioneers of television, died last week at 92. Pretty good timing on his part; didn’t he just quit 60 Minutes a few weeks ago? Further to my discussion about “ethical oil” in last week’s report, I just read that there are there 24 billion untapped barrels of oil under N. Dakota and Montana. Holy Beverly Hillbillies Batman! Who needs Libya; that’s enough oil to keep Los Angeles going for months. With the big oil rush bonanza, I can just see those marketing guys spinning their slogans: Come to North Dakota, it’s not just a miserable, frozen tundra populated by simpletons wearing trooper hats anymore (I get all my cultural information from the Coen brothers). Wow, I really could have had a V-8.

The November winds are blowing hard as I write this report. Glad the dock is up and the boat is safe on dry land. Based on the La Nina surprises that have already occurred elsewhere in North America, I’m bracing for the deep freeze sometime soon. Regards from the Great White North!



Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED