I Don't See How A Flat Tax Solves Anything

I fully admit, I don't understand the arcane art and science that is taxes and their applicable laws. But there's been something that has sort of been on my mind since around October or so.

Back when the Tea Party movement was in full force (not that it isn't now), there was clamoring for an overhaul of our tax system. I think anyone can agree our tax system is far from perfect, and needlessly convoluted. But their solution, I feel, far oversimplified things. I don't think you can take the most complicated of things, and reduce it to the simplest without losing something.

To boil humans, an extremely complicated species, for sure, into an amoeba, for example. So much would be lost in the process. Intelligent thought, for example. And no, I will not use this as an opportunity to insult tea partiers or republicans. =)

So you have our insanely complicated tax system, thousands of pages of tax codes, and thousands of people to help people understand all this. Big companies hire tax lawyers and accounting firms to pay as little as possible, so on and so forth. Poor people pay no tax, because, well, they're poor. Average people pay average tax, and the rich overwhelmingly pay most of the taxes.

Some people want to change this to a flat tax, and I understand the sentiment. Taxes are complicated, and who wants to pay someone to do their taxes. Who wants to employ an entire government agency to collect them, et cetera. Well, I do, for one.

Imagine that there was a flat tax. First of all, it doesn't work, a flat tax is regressive. Flat tax boils down to a very simple set of ideas:

First, the poor end up paying more taxes. The people who can afford it least actually have to pay more and, in effect become poorer.

Second, the rich pay less in tax. The people who need the money least end up with even more money.

The gross side effect of this nonsense is that the middle class basically disappears. The income inequality is already bad enough, with CEOs making hundreds of times what their workers earn, and that is largely due to the fact that our tax system has been slowly regressing more towards a flat tax (in theory).

But, taxes really aren't that complicated. Most people can file a 1040 or 1040EZ which takes only an hour or so of your time, even if you don't know what you're doing. For self-employed people, taxes can in fact be more complicated, but this is largely do to having to do your own bookkeeping, not an overly complex system of tax codes. How much did you spend on gas and electricity? There's a line for that on the form. How much in entertainment and food? Take half of that and slap it on the form. It's basically a boring adult version of color-by-numbers.

As for the people that taxes are really complicated for? The obscenely rich who have investments and the like who pay lobbyists to insert loopholes that they then hire tax lawyers and accounting firms to exploit to the max. Maybe this is a little biased, but when is the last time you took advantage of a tax loophole? I'll bet Exxon-Mobile does it on a daily basis, like monkeys on the discovery channel. Does it make sense that the CEO of World Wrestling Entertainment gets paid $800,000 in wages (taxed at 35%) and $20 million in dividends (taxed at 15%). This is why the tax codes are needlessly complicated, because rich people intended it to be so.

Note: I'm being chastised because the other half would like to work out, so I will bring this post to a close. I actually only intended it to be a short little snippet of a post anyway.

Casting aside the irreparable harm that a flat tax would cause to this country's economy and to it's people, I have another extremely large concern. This is my main concern, really, and why I started this post originally.

If we went to a flat tax for everything, and got rid of the IRS, then what? What about those people? They are now not only out of a job but out of a career. They will have been trained for an industry that no longer exists. The IRS workers would all be out of jobs and basically screwed. Would tea partiers be willing to have the government pay to reeducate these people for new careers? Or are they strictly on their own? Would my dad be able to retire? I don't think he can go back to school for a new career at his age. What about my brother and his family? Would they be out of luck too? Would they add to unemployment and homeless statistics? What about Kaulean who does something related to taxes and auditing for the government?

Also, H&R Block, Jackson Hewitt, and the like. Although I don't like them as businesses, certainly they employ at least some decent people who'd be out of work. As would every other CPA or accountant.

So tell me again, how is a flat tax good, and what problems does it solve? Because frankly, my dear, I just don't see it.

Snow...And Dorks

We got a lot of snow. Again. Apparently, we got 30" or so, and after shoveling it and walking in it, I'm going to have to agree. Walking through the snow, it went above my knees, and shoveling the snow, there were definitely some areas that had a really large amount of snow. But that's okay. I like snow. I like shoveling snow. I just don't like the small talk that goes along with it.

"A lot of snow, huh?" No, actually, It seems like more of a dusting to me, and the blood in the Saw franchise is more akin to a pin prick than anything more substantial. Of course there's a lot of snow. You can literally see the snow. You can see the piles of snow reaching five, six feet high. It's pretty fucking obvious there's a lot of snow out there, so saying something stupid like "We got a lot of snow, huh?" doesn't really say "conversation" to me. If that sounds harsh, I'm not sorry.

Of course, none of these photos are from this storm, these are from last weeks, when we got around a foot of snow. We're dorks and wanted to play in the snow. Me, being a really big dork, I decided to set up my strobe in our room to take some pictures. I was just kind of hoping to take some pictures that didn't totally suck. By that time, it's basically pitch black, and I figured having a nice, bright light source should make for some magical moments. Actually, I just wanted to take pictures of the snow. And I was going to take what I could get. Fortunately, it kind of worked out.

I really like the picture above. You can see the flash blowing out the window, and how much it lit up the yard. Krissy is running back to the house, probably t fetch some snow or something. I really like the nice, hard rim light around her hat. And the warmth of the lamp, while a bit jarring, adds a nice warm feeling to the photo. Winter is cold, the photos are cold, but I think that small touches of warm colors like that make them stand out a bit more. Ideally, I could have had a bit more warm tones in there, but oh well. For a snapshot, I really like it.

This is me. I'm probably getting ready to pick up some snow, or clapping my hands together, because that's how I roll. I like the light on my back, it has a very soft feel despite the light source being very hard. I found that the white snow everywhere was very forgiving, which was awesome, because the light meandered its way to places it otherwise would not have.

I got a gift card for the Gap, and I got that sweatshirt with it. Gap is ridiculously expensive considering the low quality of their clothing. I think the retail for that sweatshirt was around $70. Already some thread was coming undone and needed to be repaired. Also, it's not very thick. I really don't see how they could value it at that price. I think I paid around $30 for it, and even that is asking a lot. If it was my money, I would have left.

This is me throwing snow in the air. You can't see my face, obviously, but it's me, trust me, I ought to know.

Here's me again, I like the rim light here too. It has a weird holy kind of feel to it, which to me is peaceful. But I can see how someone would look at this and think it's kind of creepy. Ideally, I'd have had another light to light the front of me, but lights and water do not mix. I'd rather not obliterate my nice strobes, thank you very much.

Krissy took this one (and the others, except for the first one). I like it. It's a bit out of focus, but there's just something about it that I like. Also, my autofocus wasn't working at all for some reason. I attribute it to the cold, or the snow, so focusing was kind of a pain in the ass, considering how dark it was.

This is Krissy. I have to be pretty selective in what photos I show, and I think this one passed through her filter because you cannot really see her face. I love this picture though. She is smiling, and her hat is like, perfectly centered in the frame, and it really pops, color wise. The rim light around it only serves to accentuate it even more. And there's a little bit of overlap from it on her (camera side) shoulder, which I adore. 

This is from the first snowstorm, on the 26th (Boxing Day). I took this almost as an afterthought at the last minute before heading inside. I just wanted to take a picture of the snow falling, and I like how it turned out. It's nothing spectacular, but I like the ambiance of it. The photo is very wintry, which is what it is intended to portray.

Here is the same storm, as seen from the front door. These are steps which have been pretty much leveled off in snow. I think this storm was around 8-12 inches. This was the first experiment with the strobe, too. It was very awkward, and involved a boom (which we decided not to use) and Krissy, the most beautiful light stand ever. I only took a few photos, because I felt bad for her holding my light, and I didn't want to go traipsing through the snow.

The color in this one is weird, but I posted it anyway. This is what's nice about snow being white, the light bounces everywhere. This is below the window, so it might not have been lit up otherwise. I like it. It's a nice snapshot of the Christmas storm.

Bakerella has nothing on these. The red velvet recipe made for a delicious cake that, when combines with the frosting, created the richest, most amazing sweet ever. The frosting basically tasted like cheesecake, so when you bite in, you get a cakey texture, with the chocolate, that gives way to...cheesecake. They were quite decadent, but really yummy.

Obviously my technique for coating them could use some work, though I prefer things to look a little sloppy sometimes. Sure, sometimes perfection looks delicious and tasty, but it kind of makes you not want to eat it. With these, they're a bit messy and sloppy, so no one feels bad about messing up the perfect exteriors. They are more inviting. They say, "Eat me. I'm delicious. You know you want to."

Marshmallows. This time around, they were really sticky. And they worked their way all the way up the attachments. It actually was pretty amusing to watch. Of course, they were delicious. Peppermint marshmallows, yummy. Too bad everyone had to wait a week to eat them due to the snow, though.

My attempt at a chocolate confection. I don't like dark chocolate, but I actually kinda liked it. Salt makes chocolate better. Always. (Actually, it makes everything better, but chocolate especially). The picture looks like a turd, though, which makes it kind of funny.

This is what we all look like after Christmas, and getting snowed in. If only the oven wasn't obliterated and falling apart (literally), I could maybe make some goodies to go along with the bread I made last night. (Note: using the broiler to bake bread because the heating coil on the bottom fell apart is not the best method to bake bread, but it kind of works, if you're patient and pay attention.)

Of Dwarves And Gnomes

I've long said I can't draw, but the truth is I never really tried. Yes, I've drawn before, and seen the same stick figures everyone can draw and just decided I couldn't draw, like most people. But the truth is, anybody can draw. Whether or not it's any good is relative and in the eye of the beholder, as they say.

It isn't until recently that I've tried applying myself to drawing, and drawing regularly. I've always liked art inside, and resented the fact that I wasn't artistic on paper. I've always dabbled in illustration and graphic design on the computer due to the fact that I resigned myself to being unable to draw on paper. I decided to prove myself wrong and, for once, actually try. My art didn't need to be great, it just needed to be better.

So I purchased a sketchbook (one made of recycled content, woo!) and applied myself. I even joined The Sketchbook Project so as to force myself to draw. Unfortunately I have slacked a bit on that front. My drawings started with ManCat who, by now, I hope you are familiar with. At some point I drew a dwarf. I don't know why; maybe because I love Scandinavian culture or something. Whatever the reason, it brought me to the first drawings I kind of liked. I felt that what I drew looked like what I'd wanted it to look like. I've always been able to see a drawing but I have never been able to translate that sight to paper, which has constantly antagonized me.

I surprised myself with drawing faces and eyes. I'd have figured drawing a face would be the most difficult as its the most important. I figure if the face is wrong the whole drawing doesn't work. Unfortunately, my faces still weren't there yet though. I had issues drawing noses, I didn't like ears, and mouths just never looked right. You should have seen how I drew hair too, that was downright atrocious.

I've always liked painting. By that I mean, I wanted to try painting since I'd never actually done it. I've always been amazed the way a painting comes together, and I wanted to try it. This is what I came up with:

It's not perfect, but I was really happy with it. Considering that I'd never painted anything before, I felt that it looked pretty good. Of course there are areas I don't love; the nose is a weird shape, his mouth looks like he got into a fight, and his shirt is ho-hum. But I was proud, and this fine gentleman now hangs above my bed as if protecting Krissy and me.

I mentioned The Sketchbook Project before. The project is actually pretty neat. You send them a small sum of money and they send you a sketchbook. You return the sketchbook completely filled and they take it on a nationwide tour, culminating in its inclusion in the Brooklyn Art Library. If anyone takes out my sketchbook, they inform me, too, which is cool. Here is one of my sketches:

The theme is I'm sorry I forgot about you. I am pretty happy with this sketch. I really like the eyes; he looks devastated that the bus passed him. Clearly, this is not the first time he's been left out, and no matter how tough his exterior is, his eyes can't hide his anguish. Or something. I like his lunch box.

Here is another sketch from the project:

I'm pretty happy with this sketch too. I am proud of my lamp; well, at least the shade. The lamp base is a tad wonky as is the table it's on, but that's okay; I like a bit of wonkiness. This one is a summer scene. And, yes, dwarfs always wear their full regalia no matter how hot it is, okay? I'll leave any dissection of this sketch to you, however.

Next is a painting I did, and it's probably one of my favorites, to be honest. I bought some 8x10 canvas boards to paint Jessie a picture for her birthday (seen here), and felt like painting one evening so I did. I started by drawing a dwarf and decided that rather than the typical portrait, I wanted it to be asymmetrical (?). I really liked the idea of him coming from the corner like a photo bomb. Behind him a sort of children's-book style forest. His beard is (maybe?) impressionist in style. His cheeks are rosy like apples. Dwarfs always have rosy cheeks, don't you know? I'm extremely happy with the eyes. You might have to go to flickr to see it bigger to see the detail, but it still looks good as a small JPEG, too. He's not perfect (but who is?) though; his suspenders have a lack of definition-- they look flat. His pants look a bit off. among other things. But as a whole I'm quite pleased with this. Truth be told it was originally going to go to Jessie but frankly we liked it too much. Sorry, Jessie.

Last, is a painting I painted for Chris, my brother, for his birthday. I'd been wanting to paint a painting for someone and I was trying to figure out who best to paint for. I figured Chris would like it the most. I thought it would be really funny for Mike and Jen to have to hang a dwarf up in their house, but ultimately I settled on Chris. Besides his birthday came at the right time. Also, my dwarfs tend to resemble him in ways; he looks like a dwarf (in a good way).

Yes, the head is floating and I wanted it that way. I really like the hat. The hat is what I painted first and it came out better than I could have imagined, frankly. Originally the face was more in the orange color range but, inexplicably, I decided to do the shady side of the face in purple. It took me awhile to be happy with it, and I kind of regretted it for a couple days, but in the end I feel it worked out. The eyes are okay; they are good enough but not my favorite. The nose is kind of okay, too, although it is sort of weirdly misshapen. His moustache is in the style of Jimmy Mcmillan.

That's all for now. I hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to comment. =)

To Middle-Aged People: Ignorance Isn't Bliss

Let me begin by apologizing if you are middle-aged and this does not apply to you. If you are not afraid of technology, then I salute you; you are my kind of person. By no means am I lumping any group of people together, other than the group of people who pride themselves on their ignorance. That said, I hope you read and enjoy, nonetheless; maybe you will feel my pain. I'm sure we all know a few of these types of people.

Ignorance Is...Well, Ignorant

You know the maxim, "Ignorance is bliss"? It's total crap. Really, when is ignorance ever bliss? Sure, for the person who is ignorant, it's kind of nice, but they are ignorant, so why should that count for enough to coin a phrase? No, ignorance isn't bliss, because the rest of us, unfortunately, have to put up with it. But what's even worse, is sometimes we have to defend it. Oh, don't hold it against her, she's just ignorant. Well, maybe she should be educated. (For what it's worth, I didn't intend to suggest with that statement that women exclusively are ignorant, I just needed a gender and it came out, if you are offended, change "she's" to "he's" and "her" to him.")

I have, in the last five years or so, come across a lot of people who claim to be horrible with technology. Any technology. The number of people who use the same excuse kind of bewilders me. What is even more odd, is that I don't talk to that many people, although I did work at CompUSA. That said, I have never liked the phrase "I'm not good at". We all have things that try us more than others. I have struggled with math for most of my life. Am I no good at it? No. I'm pretty sure if I really applied myself, and had the right person to help me, I could get it. Besides, my trouble was mostly with physics, which is another beast altogether. But technology, computers, et cetera, how do people get away with it?

What is even more...infuriating, is that these people actually pride themselves on their ignorance. How is the inability to operate a cellphone a point of pride for some people? It's kind of like being proud that, as a man, you don't put the seat down, you proudly piss all over it (and the floor). (There you go ladies, there's your redemption from earlier. Are we even now?)

What ultimately bothers me though is that I worry for these people. The future is unavoidable. Five years ago, sure maybe you could get away with this kind of attitude. Cell phones weren't nearly as ubiquitous as they are now, computers could be avoided, Twitter didn't exist, and Facebook still required an e-mail address from certain colleges. But what if they get into an accident? What if something happens to them and they can't get help because they can't make a phone call and proudly never got a cell phone. Maybe these people haven't realized it yet, but pay phones don't exist anymore. I think in my travels across the fine state of Connecticut, I've seen maybe two.

I think that we have lost our way as a people. I think there was a time when people did things for themselves, learning and knowing a bit about everything. I'm not expecting the Renaissance, no, but maybe we can be more than one-trick-ponies. No, that sounds a bit unfair. Maybe we shouldn't be so scared of things that are new. Why do new things scare us?

Why So Scared?

I understand newness is scary; we like the familiar. But isn't there at least some exhilaration to cracking something new? I am not a car guy. Cars really don't interest me. I don't need to drive two hundred miles-per-hour, nor do I need a vehicle with six hundred horsepower. Truth be told, I really want a Vespa. But, if something goes wrong, I'd kind of like to give fixing it a try if it's easy enough. Case in point, a battery died, not on my car, but it died nonetheless. I thought to myself that I'd like to deal with it. Changing a battery isn't rocket science (despite what some people may think), so I figured I'd look up what I needed to know and spent an hour or so fixing it. And you know what? I liked it. Maybe it made me feel a little manly, but most of all I was pleased to do something myself and not have to pay someone else to do it. Am I now a car guy? No, not in the least, but I'm still going to attempt to be one.

As the ranking computer person in my family, and the ranking boy in another, I've found myself on the receiving end of this type of unapologetic ignorance. I have changed quite a few batteries, and screwed things that needed screwing (get your mind out of the gutter, mind you, they were screws). I've carried bags, plugged things in, and opened computer cases and that hardly scratches the surface. It's not that I don't mind helping. Honestly I like helping people. What bothers me the most is when someone asks for help because they don't want to try something. I can't tell you how many times this happened at my jobs. Every single one of them, too.

To be honest, I understand the elderly who don't want to deal with computers. I think that maybe they've earned that right. I'm not going to fault them for their stubbornness, but I know of quite a few elderly people who absolutely love their technology now that they've embraced it. But if you are in your forties or fifties, it kind of boggles my mind to ignore computers and technology as a whole.

Looking Forward

I worry for these people. What happens when you are at your job, which you feel secure in, warrants this technology you so fear? Consider for a moment that jobs are being consolidated. Companies figure why pay two people what one can do? Truth be told, the larger the company the more it seems like they want to consolidate four or five jobs into one, but that's a blog for another date.

Technology isn't going anywhere. Technology is here to stay and evolve, and the longer anyone avoids it, the further behind they find themselves. There are a lot of people who dislike math. Like I wrote before, it's not been my strongest subject in life. But you know who doesn't have problems with math? Mathematicians. It's not because they're geniuses. Sure, I bet many of them are, but I think it's for a different reason. Consider the fact that the people involved in the forward motion of math are mathematicians. They don't need to relearn everything, because they are travelling with math as it evolves. This same is true with computers and technology.

Once upon a time, computers were harder to learn than now. Instead of a nice, usable user interface like Windows 7, we had only console screens. Nothing but text. Did you want to plug something in? Well, lots of plugs were proprietary and there were a great many ports on a computer. There are still some remnants left on the back, too. You likely still have a printer port back there. It's, frankly, huge and takes up space. You may have a serial port too, which is much smaller. You may have a floppy drive, too. All of these have been replaced of course to become easier. Most peripherals connect now via USB ports. Fortunately, computers (and most technology) has actually gotten easier to use over time. Computers are actually incredibly easy to use, especially compared to twenty or more years ago. Cellphones, too, are really simple to use. Frankly, I'd hate for something terrible to happen to someone because they couldn't operate a cell phone. So, too, would I hate for someone to lose a job, or be unable to get a job, because they opted to ignore computers.

Looking Back

I remember the beep beep pang whizz of my modem dialing up AOL. I remember the first time I surfed the internet on a decent connection. I remember LAN parties at ten years old. Suffice to say that I am a nerd, a geek, whatever your word of choice for me, I am that. I grew up in a home that wasn't afraid of computers or technology. We had an IBM PS/2, an archaic bit of technology now, but it worked, and I learned on it. To this day I have fond memories of five-inch floppies and the games I played on that machine. As much as I love the new, fancy look and feel of games, I feel that that love is indebted to DOS games and that IBM PS/2.

I remember my brother, Chris, got a computer for Christmas or his birthday one year. Finally, I was moving on up. Yes, it was his computer, in his room, but it was as good as mine. I used it a lot, especially at night. I remember the rise and fall of Napster on that computer, the ever familiar "You've Got Mail" on that computer, and the beginning of my fascination with the internet in general on it. I don't know when it was, but I got a computer eventually, too, from my dad. It's kind of funny in a way, I only got rid of that computer a few years ago. I have a problem discarding computers.

The thing is, I like the environment, I care deeply for it, and I hate to know that I'm hurting it by throwing a computer in the garbage. But my computers have largely been my amigos, so to speak. I've lived through events in my live with them being a part of it. I feel like a lot of my views on life have, at least in part, been formed by my life on the computer.

In The End...

I'm not asking the uninitiated and ignorant people to delve deeply into computers and technology. I don't expect them to understand that everything is ones and zeroes, nor do I want them to understand gates, NAND operations, or the like. No, I just want them to be able to plug one in and turn it on. I want them to be able to take a cell phone and make a phone call. I don't require that they make accounts on Facebook and Twitter (though, I bet a lot of them would like Facebook).  I just want them to try and to realize that, ultimately, computers and all modern technology is precisely that: modern.

I suspect that back in the fifties when televisions were new people weren't so scared. Didn't watching tv together become something of a family event where everyone would gather to watch? It was new, it was exciting! How about microwaves? They were a technological innovation at the time. Cooking food quickly and easily? No need to fire up the oven? Yes, please! But now, all of a sudden, where is this enthusiasm? Aren't the people who are so afraid of modern tech the same who grew up with these innovations? How would they have felt if their parents were afraid of television, and instead held onto their radios like television would be the death of all things good?

Truth is, computers can be daunting. The internet invites us, our humble little selves, in our humble little towns, into the larger, grander world. There are a lot of awful and dangerous things on the internet. There's a lot to fear: viruses, porn, liberals, conservatives, Jesus freaks, atheists, hate mongerers, hippies; they're all there. But that is kind of the beauty of the internet, too. Everyone is represented.

I like vintage things. I like the idea of taking something old but functional and keeping it around. I'd rather reuse something than buy something new. And when I do buy something new, I like it to be something that will last forever. It's very difficult to find that kind of stuff around here though. I also like handmade things. No offense to big corporations, but I like being able to meet the person who made my (fill in the blank), or at the very least being able to talk to them. I don't know where my socks came from, or my pants. Nor do I know who made my television or my mirror. But if I buy hand towels from Etsy or a craft fair instead of K-Mart I feel more of a connection. What I'm trying to say, in an extremely roundabout way, mind you, is that for all the bad that is on the internet, there is an infinite amount of good to counter it. I can now find like minded folks, without having to move to a place like New Haven. But what about those people in the middle of nowhere? Where can they turn? What about gay people who live in fiercely conservative areas? The internet could provide the only solution for them. Sure, there's a lot of hate and controversy on the internet, but there's just as much if not more in real life.

So don't worry. Technology isn't all that scary. And if you need a hand, I don't mind helping you. I'm sure there are others, too, that want to help. All I ask is that you make an effort. That's it, just try. I want you to learn. I want to help you do just that. It's a crazy place out there, but it's the same crazy we're all used to.

Baby Animals Are Adorable, No?

Baby cheetah is cute.

Who doesn't love baby animals, right? There's something especially cute about baby animals that. when adults, will tear your face off. Unfortunately, there are some (let's call them mentally deficient) people who seem to ignore the fact that while bobcats may be cute, they have paws the size of my face.

This brings me to this little guy:

 

This fine young  lad is a Savannah, and the one cat I really, really want. Unfortunately they may be illegal in Connecticut. See, technically the Savannah is a hybrid cat. But what cats aren't. tight? Well, the part that makes it illegal, from what I understand, is that part of it's hybridity (I totally made that word up) is that its daddy is a Serval, and Servals are wild cats. Lamesauce. By the way. the mommy is a domestic Siamese. Picture that, big, male Serval mating with a wee little Siamese. Yeoch. I imagine it'd look something like this:

 

A few things I would like to point out:

• Yes, that is a full-sized adult male holding a Savannah; they are huge!
• Please tell me you see that painting in the background. Epic.It looks like a naked lady straddling a basilisk. I want it. (the painting, not the lady)

Savannah's tend to weigh around 10-15 pounds but can weigh up to 20. If you have a fat cat like some people maybe they can weigh more. The Guinness record for the biggest cat is a Savannah (18 inches tall  and almost 42 inches long). Yowza.

I think my favorite trait of the Savannah, though, is it's basically a dog. Imagine all the best traits of a dog with some of the more mischievous characteristics of a cat, and you have a Savannah. The cats are very playful, and can be trained, much like a dog. They will follow around their owners and are extremely loyal, whereas cats always seem like they're holding out for something better.

Savannah's greet people with head butts (as does our beloved Meatball)


and sometimes they can actually pounce. But this is more of a "Hi! pleased to meet you!" kind of pounce, not the more treacherous "Die! I'm going to rip you to shreds and eat your carcass" kind of pounce you need to be afraid of with other cats.

Savannah's are incredibly smart, managing to open doors, cupboards, and anything else they can get their paws on or into (See, little troublemakers!). Oh, and from a standing position they can jump 8 feet! Eat your heart out LeBron, there's a new king in town.

You know what cats hate more than anything else? That's right, water. Except Savannah's don't! They actually love water. Just like dogs, Savannah's will frolic and swim in water and, believe it or not, you can actually shower with them. It sounds bizarre, I know, and I certainly wouldn't feel comfortable doing it, but apparently a lot of Savannah owners do it. I think cats are a little to prone to swatting though, if you know what I mean.

I don't think they should be illegal. Sure they look scary (compared to most domestic cats) but they're pretty harmless. Unfortunately, Connecticut likens them to Grizzly Bears:

Possession of potentially dangerous animal. Bill for costs of confiscation. Civil penalty.
For the purposes of this section, the following wildlife, or any hybrid thereof, shall be considered as potentially dangerous animals: The felidae, including, but not limited to, the lion, leopard, cheetah, jaguar, ocelot, jaguarundi cat, puma, lynx and bobcat; the canidae, including, but not limited to, the wolf and coyote; and the ursidae, including, but not limited to, the black bear, grizzly bear and brown bear.

That's right, owning this sweet cat is just like owning a pet wolf, bear, or lion. True Story. It just makes me want to break the law though, or move to another state.

Here kitty, kitty. Maybe one day I will own one of you, but for now I guess I'm out of luck.

I Don't Eat Mashed Potatoes, And That Ain't No Crime

A bowl of mashed potatoes

That's right, I said it. I don't like mashed potatoes. I don't like them baked either. The only potato I like is fried in the form of french fries or potato chips (preferably homemade, yum. Guess what else, I don't like corn, either. A crime, for sure, but the fact is, it's not just that I don't like these (and basically every other food), I really don't like them. And this, as you can imagine, has been quite problematic for me.

I am a picky eater, as you might call me. Quite picky. I love dairy. Milk, eggs, egg nog, butter, ice cream, sour cream, yogurt, cheese, and Greek yogurt are all delicious; dairy is, and has been, a staple of my diet for probably most of my twenty five years. I like bread, hamburgers, meatballs, pasta sauce (so long as it isn't chunky). I often say I like fruits, but really I like strawberries. I can eat about three of them before I am attacked by the monster that is tart. When sliced and left to fester in sugar, I can eat a small bowl's worth. Aside from that, I don't really eat fruit. I can eat part of an apple, some kiwifruit and not a single vegetable.That's right, I don't eat vegetables and I never have.

I can't tell you how many hours I've sat at the table just waiting because "you can't leave the table until you finish everything on your plate!" My problem started at birth. I didn't eat baby food. I didn't eat as a toddler, an adolescent, and my situation has improved only marginally at best since entering adulthood.

Click on the picture to buy the book and help me out! (It's $6.99)

Growing up, we all have those children's books that we remember, the ones that mean something to us; the one that I remember is Gregory, the Terrible Eater. Or, as my mom read it to me Dennis the Terrible Eater. I guess I was born a pain in the ass and I stayed that way.

You might know a picky eater or two, maybe you give them a hard time for it. After all, how hard is it to just try something? Why so stubborn? It turns out, trying things might be harder than you'd think. Consider how a picky eater would feel going out to a party or dinner. Imagine going out and wondering if you'll end up at that Pad Thai restaurant, and the mere thought of Pad Thai disgusts you. I suspect that would make you a little uncomfortable: that is me.

It turns out, picky eating may be an eating disorder and that makes a lot of sense. According to LiveScience:

Researchers think Krause could be one of thousands suffering from a previously unrecognized illness:selective eating disorder, more commonly known as very picky eating. Instead of having a couple foods they'd rather avoid, the way most of us do, people with selective eating disorder feel there are very few foods they are even capable of eating.

This is me! This is me!

Krause likes peanut butter, crackers, grilled cheese sandwiches, chocolate milk and little else. More adventurous meals look like "a plate of barf," he told LiveScience.

"If I could snap my fingers and change, I would," he said, explaining his pickiness helped ruin two marriages, limited his career options and makes most social occasions sources of stress.

I completely understand where Mr. Krause is coming from here. Most foods don't just look gross so I avoid them, no, foods are completely unappetizing. They look...like barf, have nauseating textures, and tastes that demand I never subject my mouth and palate to such a thing ever again. And if I could simple "snap my fingers" to be "normal" I would. I like how food smells. I like making food, the process of it all is exciting and all kinds of wonderful. I simply can't eat any of it though.

"People who are picky aren't doing this just to be stubborn," said eating researcher Nancy Zucker of Duke University, explaining that extremely picky eaters experience food differently than the rest of us.

Zucker, who is also the director of the Duke Center for Eating Disorders, first became interested in selective eating, because adult picky eaters were walking in, looking for help. Their eating behavior was getting in the way of their job or social life, or they were worried about being bad role models for their kids, she said.

I think this is one of the points most people don't try to understand. Who would subject themselves to this on their own? If eating foods and liking them were a choice, wouldn't I take the easy way out and eat them? It's kind of like being gay; people are born that way. Most people, myself included, are inclined to go about things in the easiest manner possible. When two roads diverge in a yellow wood, we generally, against Robert Frost's advice, take the road oft traveled.

This is us. We're a lazy people, and that's okay.

Why climb a wall when there's a very nicely manicured path that leads around said wall, right?  Well, for some of us, there are no paths, just a wall, a really, really, realllly tall one at that. And I am certainly no champion wall/rock climber, nor do I expect others to be.

Most people with this disorder are highly embarrassed by their limited food repertoire and will go to great lengths to keep it hidden, either by avoiding social events that involve food or drinks (which ones don't?), or by making up excuses to avoid eating, such as fibbing about an upset belly.

Might I suggest, "Oh, I'm not really hungry, I just ate." Of course this doesn't work though, because our bellies belie this untruth, for when hungry, our bellies grumble. Plus, when people host gatherings they expect people to show up hungry; it's kind of rude to eat beforehand. But what choice do picky eaters have? I see two choices: eat beforehand and be rude or don't eat and go hungry. And let's face it, not eating is kind of already rude, which is why most stay home.

Selective eaters tend to like similar foods, with an emphasis on the bland and processed. They love salt. French fries are a favorite. Bacon is the only meat many of them will eat. Fruit, vegetables and alcohol are snubbed for the most part — with light beer and raw carrots being possible exceptions.

Could they be supertasters? That is, people who, because of their genetic makeup, taste certain flavors more acutely than average tasters?

This sounds about right; my food group seems to be dairy and to some extent breads and sauce. The second paragraph is particularly interesting considering in more complex foods there seems to be specific tastes that both me. It happens a lot, and most people have never believed me. Most of the foods I like are simple, because the more flavors that are added, the more opportunity to ruin something I might actually eat.

So keep in mind, picky eaters aren't setting out to be bastards, and you can't fix us. Just let us be and,  maybe, try to be a little more accommodating; we'll thank you for it.

Where The Wild Things Are

Everyone dabbles...

I like children's books. I may not have the affinity for them that a certain other person does, but, to be honest, I've always loved them. I may not read them every day, or think about them all that much, but I like them. I cannot imagine writing (or illustrating) one myself. They are incredibly simple at face value but beyond the simplicity of the words and rhymes directed at children are messages far more profound. I don't know if this is for the parents or if these deeper messages are meant to sink in for the children who are merely given these books for their educational purpose (what kid learns with War And Peace, right?). I suspect that children know what they're reading; perhaps children aren't given enough credit.

Max (Click to see larger)

I drew this first picture the other day. For some reason I decided to draw Max from Where The Wild Things Are. I don't know why. Maybe because Max is troublesome, or a rebel, or because of a certain cat, but it is likely because my brain meanders constantly and at that precise moment it thought Where The Wild Things Are.

I don't have a deep connection with this book. I like it (also, the movie is good). I don't recall reading it all the time or anything. I do remember it though. I like that it's not your typical children's book; it's darker than many are. But the story is relateable, is it not?

Monster #1 (Click to view larger)

Next, I decided to draw the rest of the characters. I figured, while I am at it, I may as well do the rest of the characters. Truth be told, I haven't started one of the characters yet (the girl with the long, straight hair). But I started with who I can only assume is the leader of the monsters Max finds. I like the way he looks. My drawing actually turned out fairly well. I have since drawn a new one with colored pencils, which looks pretty decent but I don't have a photo of it yet.

Goat Monster? (Click to view larger)

As I made my way through the cast, I next arrived at this goat like fellow. He seems angry, but I don't know why. Maybe he wants to be in charge sometimes, maybe he is tired of having to take orders from the other monsters. Maybe he reflects Max's struggles with his mother, which subsequently get resolved in the end. I don't know, but he is angry and he really shouldn't be. Sure, he's kind of alone. He only has three other monsters on the island to keep him company; perhaps he needs more. Some people do, after all, need more companionship than that. Maybe he needs to be surrounded by creatures to be comfortable. Then again, maybe three is the perfect number and once Max showed up, his entire foundation crumbled; not to mention Max immediately becomes their king, so maybe the monster has a lack of trust there.

Bird Monster (Click to view larger)

Next in line is the bird. I was looking forward to the bird, to be honest, but it proved to be somewhat of a pain. I found it difficult to find a good source image so I could see what the bird actually looks like. All in all, I am fairly happy. He is not perfect, but then again who or what is? The fur and stuff isn't bad. Oh well, I'm pleased.

King of the Wild Things (Click to enlarge)

For some reason I ended up painting Max. It's loosely based on the drawing from the first card. This is an 8x10 canvas board. Krissy likes it a lot, but she likes everything. I like it. As a whole, I'm happy with the painting but there are definitely parts I feel could be improved if I knew how to paint, but I'm kind of a perfectionist, so if I knew how to paint I can only imagine how I'd tear it apart. I didn't add the bush's shadows until the end, and I feel like it brought the painting up a level. It's kind of neat how small things can have such an impact sometimes.

Man Cat Faces His Inner Demons

Grandpa

Hi again. I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read The Daily Man Cat. Man Cat says thank you as well. We'd like to take this time, however, to discuss a serious epidemic plaguing America: Feline Obesity.

Man Cat gone seriously wrong

Feline Obesity is a problem near and dear to Man Cat's heart. As far back as he can remember his family has suffered from this deadly disease. His grandfather, suffered a long life of portly circumstance which hindered seemingly everything except for his ability to father children as he had nearly 35 children to his name. Naturally, when one has such a widespread lineage some of the litter will be abnormally large, some will be runts, but no. Of the 35 baby kitties all 35 suffered the same inexhaustible fate as their father: unfathomable obesity. This carried on through the lineage to Man Cat and his brothers and sisters (all regular, run-of-the-mill cats, mind you). Sadly, this did not bode well for Man Cat and his siblings. It's only natural for the little tykes to get teased by the other cats, dogs, rabbits, and other domesticated animals (we all do it, after all), but when your entire family is fat enough that there's not enough Pepperidge Farms Goldfish in the entire world to feed them that teasing escalates to another level. Couple onto that the fact that one of them is not exactly what you'd consider your typical domesticated animal, a mutant of sorts, well, you can imagine how tortured the teasing became. With all the teasing came a vicious cycle of eating to hide behind. Food became a kind of shield to Man Cat's family- a way for them to escape the realities of everyday life at school and in the neighborhood. But Man Cat knew it was time to break the cycle.

As one can imagine, living in a household of furry football-shaped cats diet and exercise can be nigh impossible, but Man Cat set out to do just that: accomplish the impossible. At first, he had to start small: hiding food, pretending to eat more, say he was going out to eat when instead he went to the gym. But slowly Man Cat started to shed pounds and get stronger. Slowly but surely, as his siblings grew rounder and rounder, blood sugars spiraling wildly out of control, Man Cat's abs grew more and more chiseled. During this time Man Cat found solace in talking to the one person who seemed to understand: his grandfather (pictured at the top of this post by the way!). There's just something about grandparents, isn't there? They (the good ones at least) always have the answer to the questions you've yet to ask, always piling on wisdom gleaned through life onto you. You see, Grandpa Cat knew what it was like to go through life a fat feline fur ball. The pain, the discomfort, the constant snow of dandruff reminding you of your roly poly self.

Man Cat in his present chiseled glory

Man Cat continued his diet and exercise regimen into his adult life, making friends at the gym, even getting a few dates. In truth, he'd found his acceptance. Finally, Man Cat found a place he felt comfort, a place he felt at home. Over time, Man Cat lost touch with everyone in his family except for his grandpa, whom he would stop by and visit sporadically. On his grandfather's 75^th birthday, Man Cat found his grandfather in the corner of the living room observing the festivities in his honor, so he decided to sit with him and keep him company. They didn't talk, not to each other not to anyone else either. They just sat; they didn't need to talk, though; everything they needed to say to each other was written firmly on their faces. And from the glint in his grandfather's eyes, Man Cat knew that he'd made his grandfather proud, and that is all that matters to him.


Until next time, thanks for reading, -Dennis