I'm Just Sayin'

I don’t usually blog about politics, but this “ground zero mosque” controversy has my panties all in a wad. So allow me, please, to pick this wedgie from my ass, metaphorically speaking.

First of all, can we all quit calling it the ground zero mosque? It is not a mosque, and it is not at ground zero. I am not one to blame the media for creating controversy. After all, if we all quit paying attention, they would have to move on. But somewhere, some reporter first came up with the erroneous label, recognized its emotional impact, and away we go.

Or maybe it wasn’t the media. Maybe it was one of the sycophantic politicians, fighting for traction in a mid-term election. Seriously, how does a building project in Manhattan figure into a senate or gubernatorial race in Florida? Is the United States Senate, or the Florida state government, really going to influence this issue?
And for the life of me, I don’t understand what Obama said that was so bad. He spoke in support of the constitution of the United States. Isn’t that within the duties expected of the President? He said they have a right to build it, and then refused to comment on whether they should build it. From that, the candidate for governor in Florida credited Obama with creating a national issue, and interjecting the “mosque” into the mid-term election. He even released an ad with the headline “Obama’s Mosque.” Really, if you stretched reality any further, the elastic would unravel quicker than the beleaguered waistband of my hi-cut cotton hipsters.

In the interest of full self-disclosure, I voted for Obama. I’m not thrilled with his performance so far, but I think he got it right this time: support the Constitution and move on to issues he can actually impact. Seriously, wouldn’t we rather know where the candidates stand on the economy, energy policy, immigration reform, or health care legislation? Even hot button issues like abortion and same-sex marriage have taken a back seat to one man’s plan to build a community center in New York City.

I am amazed at some of the dialog surrounding this building project. It’s been all over Facebook, of course. The local paper invited readers to weigh in, with its daily opinion poll. Two-thirds of those who responded were opposed, which is not surprising for a Bible-belt city located smack in the middle of a red state. Some of the comments indicate that opponents consider Park51 a threat to their religious freedom. Really? How are Muslims in New York City playing basketball, learning to cook -- or heaven forbid -- praying, going to affect your Sunday morning worship service in North Carolina? Someone thought that supporters were using “inflammatory language” by suggesting that Park51 is a community center, rather than a mosque. Oh, yeah, that c-word, community, it’s a real fire-starter. And another person objected to the size of the 13-story project. Hello? Have you ever been to Manhattan? Or seen pictures? Thirteen stories is nothing!

We are so obsessed with the issue, we had to consult a true expert, Miss USA. That’s right, the 24-year-old pole dancing beauty queen weighed in. To be fair, she is Muslim. She grew up in New York City, but her family fled to Michigan amidst the post 9/11 anti-Islamic hate wave. She thinks the community center should be located farther away from the World Trade Center site, by the way. I wonder if Inside Edition, the bastion of hard news, would have bothered to report her views if she’d been in favor. I mean, she’s Muslim, born in Lebanon. And while she’s not a constitutional scholar, she is a college graduate. So maybe she does have a unique perspective.

The point is, she has a right to speak up. The president has a right to speak up. Each of us has a right to speak up. It’s another one of those pesky guarantees of the U.S. Constitution, along with, you got it: freedom of religion. But here’s the deal. If you are going to exercise your right to speak up, you should make an effort to know what you’re talking about. It’s a community center, not a mosque. It’s not at Ground Zero. It’s two blocks away.

And what is Ground Zero? It’s a chunk of pricey real estate where something horrible happened. Park51, the site of the community center, is another chunk of pricey real estate. And the bottom line is that Mr. Rauf has every legal right to build what he wants on that site. The local zoning board has upheld that right. And while the rest of us can speak our piece, in the end, we just have to accept the reality. Turn the other cheek, as the Christian Bible says. If we don’t like what the community center represents, we don’t have to go there. When we go to visit the ground made sacred on 9/11, we can choose another route. Perhaps we’d rather walk past a seedy strip club or pawn shop, or a boarded up building. They are there, within steps of ground zero. Anybody’s panties in a wad over that?

The tragic events of September 11, 2001 have shaped America in ways we still struggle to define. As a nation we owe support and sensitivity to the survivors and the families of those who perished. And we owe them something else. We owe them our very best efforts to defend our rights and our freedom as Americans. The extremists who caused the catastrophe known as 9/11 acted to destroy that freedom. If we give in to fear and hatred, we allow them to succeed.

I’m just sayin …

A friend of a Facebook friend, obviously a small business owner, recently lamented the rampant use of debit cards by customers. Don’t they realize, she wondered, that merchants have to pay a processing fee on debit card purchases, usually a percentage of sales? Don’t consumers realize the stated price is usually a cash price, she asked, and not a debit or credit card price?

Well, yes and no, Ms. Biz Owner. Yes, I did know that retail outlets pay for the privilege of providing this huge convenience to buyers. In America, we call that overhead. It’s the cost of doing business, along with rent, utilities, advertising and inventory. And no, I was not aware that advertised prices are meant for cash only purchases. I thought a price was a price was a price.

Don’t get me wrong, I am sensitive to the struggles of small businesses in this economy. But I am struggling too. And that means I am spending less (in theory anyway). So the business that provides the highest quality goods or services, at the best price, and meets my needs for convenience, is going to get my meager dollars. Nine times out of ten, I buy local. I go out of my way to do so. I shop the local farmer’s market, and I get up early to do so! I haunt consignment stores for household goods, frequent a local second-hand bookseller, and eat in locally-owned restaurants. And I use my debit card almost exclusively.

I am so devoted to the use of my debit card, that I recently drove off from a gas pump (without fueling) when the card reader was out of service. (I neglected to replace the gas cap or close the fuel tank access door, which prompted lots of honking and waving from fellow motorists, but I kind of got off on the attention.) I am just not interested in walking into the service station, standing in line, resisting the Peppermint Patty or Bit O Honey that is screaming my name, to pay for my gas. Call me lazy. Call me stubborn. But if you want to call me your customer, provide me the opportunity to pay at the pump.

I rarely carry cash. Several years ago, an acquaintance was mugged in the parking lot of the grocery store in broad daylight, had her purse wrenched from her arm and was knocked to the ground, breaking her wrist. Police told her someone in the store probably watched her pay cash and noticed that she had some leftover. Another friend once had her cash-filled wallet stolen from her desk drawer. She was able to prevent charges against her credit and debit cards, but the cash was long gone. So, sorry, Ms. Biz Owner, when I weigh your overhead with my personal safety and wellbeing, I’m choosing me. If you support me by providing the convenience, I’ll support you by buying your stuff. I’m just sayin’ …

Promise you won’t report me to PETA or the ASPCA for this.

I’m having a hard time with fleas this summer. In a household with three cats, fleas can spread faster than a head cold at preschool. I’ve used the Front Line religiously, but the little blood suckers just keep hopping up. So I bought some flea spray, and for the past few weeks, I’ve been torturing my girls by spritzing them liberally every chance I get.

Yeah, they’re really happy about that.

Fannie, the one who looks like she swallowed a football, now lives in the basement almost fulltime to avoid me. Sophie, who would spend her entire life draped around my neck if I let her, now prefers to admire me from afar. And Chloe, the calico, well, she’s taken a more passive/aggressive approach.

I got a hold of Chloe earlier today and gave her a good soaking with the Hartz Ultra Guard. Or so I thought. She retreated to the bedroom to regain her normal obsessively well-groomed appearance. So, evening rolls around and I am lying on the couch watching the Cardinals beat up on the Reds. Chloe sees her chance for revenge, and decides to place herself between me and the television, rubbing her entire body along my face.

That’s when I noticed how good she smells … like … laundry detergent!? OMG! I sprayed my cat with OxyClean Max Force Laundry Stain Remover! In my own defense, both products come in blue spray bottles of a similar shape. And I store them both in the laundry room. So it was only natural, right? Anybody would have done it, right?

Of course I immediately checked the label on the OxyClean. I doesn’t actually say it is a hazard to pets. It just says to keep it out of their reach. I don’t think Chloe will be reaching for a blue spray bottle any time soon, let me tell you. The label does indicate that it can be an eye and skin irritant, so I grabbed the poor cat again and rubbed her down with a wet towel. I have to say she did suds up a little bit before she managed to escape … leaving a few scratch marks in her wake.

I’ve been watching her closely for a couple of hours, looking for signs of illness. She’s watching me, too, from her perch on top of the TV hutch. She’s cussing me with her eyes. If you’ve ever had a cat cuss you with its eyes, you know how scary that can be.

But she seems ok physically. I’ll keep an eye on her and try to rub her down again, if she lets me anywhere near. And I’ve already relocated the flea spray to the bathroom cabinet. Don’t worry, the bathroom cleaner is in a white spray bottle. Whew … scrubbing bubbles on a cat’s coat might have sent us both over the edge.

And, at the risk of sounding insensitive, I just have to report this: OxyClean spray is highly effective in removing various laundry stains. It will not, apparently, remove spots from a calico cat. I’m just sayin.