PROPS OUT TO THE CHICAGO TRANSIT AUTHORITY

Before you read this, read my last post if you haven't already. Okay, read on.

I'd like to thank the employees of the Chicago Transit Authority for their prompt, thorough, and professional manner in which they addressed my complaint/report. First, not 15 minutes after I sent the email, the customer service department repsonded and told me there will be an investigation (they also chastised me for sleeping on the el--I told them I wouldn't anymore). I had also send the email to Carole Brown, the chairman of the board of the CTA (and fellow blogger). She forwarded it on to the appropriate channels for address. I was then sent an email today from Mr. Greg Longhini of the CTA assuring me that at thorough investigation will be conducted as this behavior is not tolerated.

I just got off the phone with the head of the canine unit of the CTA. He was absolutely embarrassed, apologetic and reassured me that there will be an investigation with the on duty security officers and the Chicago police office that was supervising. He said that since I gave such a detailed account and description, they were able to identify the person in question as an off duty Sheriff from the Chicago PD. (BTW, how glad am I that I paid my parking ticket off and that my husband has one of those, I Support Police stickers.) Though he was suprised that that was the gentleman in question, he still intends to terminate him if found guilty.

If this turns into a he said/she said I won't be suprised. But I have to say how impressed I am at the quick action and sincere remorse that these employees of the CTA have shown. They will be calling me or writing me with the outcome of this case and I will let you know what happens.

Homeless or not, one should feel protected by officers of the law. I'm not naive, and I know from experiences of my own and others that officers can get hot tempered, entitled and downright brutal with an inflated sense of authority. The bottom line was this man was not doing anything against the law, perhaps against the no sleeping policy of the CTA, but nothing to warrant the abuse that I witnessed. I've never done anything like this before and the only reason I did was because it was so blatant, I knew that I didn't imagine what I saw, it's imprinted in my mind. My first instinct was to call the officer a "fucker", but I took a second and realize that is the stupidest thing I could have done. (This is my husband's influence.) As they say, the pen is mightier than the sword.

When this is all said and done, I plan on sending a letter of thanks to the CTA from me as a representative of the human race. Most of us have at least one person that has our backs. There are people out there that have nobody. For whatever reason, through fault of their own, the system or a combination of things, they have no one to say, "Back off."

Gross Abuse of Power

It's not a new thing to see or hear or read about an officer of the law abusing his or her power. Abuse comes in all forms, verbal threats or insults, physical threats, physical acts, etc. I witnessed on such incident on the CTA (that's the Chicago Trasit Authority, which, incidentally was the original name of the band Chicago) blue line this morning on my way to work. Call me a bleeding heart, I don't really care. I consider myself compassionate. I'm a sensitive (overly sometimes) person and it bothers me to know end to see any abuse of power. Especially toward people who've done nothing wrong. I sent the following to Carole Brown, the Chairman of the CTA board, who also has a blog as well as the customer service department. I still need to send it to CTA President Frank Kruesi, which I'll do after I go to the restroom.

Dear Carole,

I am writing to report an incident of passenger abuse by one of the security checkers that occurred on the loop bound blue line at the Grand stop while the train was stopped for it's routine security check. There was a man sleeping hunched over in a seat. The security officer saw the man through the window. The security officer then boarded the train, walked up to the sleeping man and violently YANKED the back of the collar of his coat and JERKED his head up. The startled man was then told to "IF YOU'RE SLEEPING, GO HOME." The security officer then THREW the man's head back down. The passenger appeared to be indigent. I've lived in this city for a number of years and I know the CTA is not be used as a moving hotel but one cannot say that that is why this passenger was sleeping. Regardless, this was not just cause for aggressive manhandling, or verbal threats. I sleep on the train all the time as do a number of other passengers. Because I'm a young woman in professional dress I highly doubt that I'd be subject to such blatent abuse of power by an individual who's job is to protect the safety of any and all passengers.

This security officer was male, about 5'8", approximately 45-55 yrs old, and had a salt and pepper beard. The time was approximately 8:22am today September 23, 2005.

I would appreciate a response to my concerns regarding the violation of the civil rights of this passengers. If this incident is not addressed, I will pursue this matter further. If you have further questions of me, you can email me here or call

Many thanks,

Mrs. Kerri Sanford

Gone But Not Forgotten

Scrunchies. You may still own one for the purpose of holding back your hair when you wash your face. Or perhaps you play women’s softball or do gymnastics. (Though I’ve noticed in the world of women’s sports, the hair ribbon has been making a grand resurgence.) I will be the first to admit, that because I have such thick, curly, crazy hair, scrunchies did a great job holding my hair back and NOT pulling it out, like rubber bands do. To me scrunchies were more useful than stylish, and I believe I’m not alone on this one.

The scrunchie trend is sort of a mystifying one to me. As far as hair accoutrement, the scrunchie is far less offensive then say, the giant flower trend, which is very hard to pull off unless you are a bride or a competitive ballroom dancer. Or, remember those bow clips. I don’t believe you could have been a girl in the 80’s without one. I used to get creative and fashion my own bow clips out of fabric remnants or lace torn off an old nightgown or dress. We have to mention the banana clip. Why on earth anyone wanted their hair to look like a cross between the tail of a horse and a Mohawk is beyond me. Perhaps that’s my jealousy speaking as I had extremely short, horrible, frizzy, curly hair during the banana clip days and when I’d try it to use one (and not break it from the sheer strength of my hair) I’d end up looking as if I’d attached a scrub brush to the back of my head.

By the time the scrunchie appeared on the scene 1989 or so, my hair had grown out to a respectable length and for a good three or four years, I wore scrunchies. Again, not so much for the look (although, initially, I was one of those that did the “Pebbles” with scrunchie that was color coordinated with my socks—granted these were mostly my sporty casual days) but for function. I was hardly alone. You couldn’t pop into any girl’s Honda accord without seeing at least two scrunchies wrapped around the stick shift. Girls asked for scrunchies like they’d ask for tampons. One just assumed you had one.

I’d sort of thought that scrunchies would be around forever. Sure they started as a trend, but they became such a staple and they lasted a lot longer than most trends. See: satin camouflage cargo pants, tiered mini skirts that barely cover your ass, women wearing ties, sweaters sold with matching leg warmers and sneaker pumps (come ON!!!!!). I figured that they may go the route of the Capri pants; trend to staple. Of course, I’d fully expect the scrunchie design to change along with the rest of the fashion industry. Scrunchies started off big and loud, I could see them today being smaller and more unique by utilizing different fabrics.

It is the nature of humans to build up one another and then gleefully tear them down. I suppose it’s the same theory in fashion. Case in point; I’m sitting here reminiscing on how handy, and hair friendly scrunchies were, yet what spurred this whole topic was that I followed a girl this morning who had her hair pulled back with a black scrunchie, which had apparently lost it’s elastic (awww, that was always a bitch). What this cleaver girl had done was wrap the scrunchie around the ponytail and then tied the scrunchie slack into a teeny, tiny bow. I tell you, the ingenuity to embrace the athletic hair ribbon trend and go retro with the scrunchie action. Albeit it was ugly and I laughed inside, I can’t help but think that this girl may be onto something. The Bowchie? The Scrow?

PS: I just remembered this crafty little hair item from the early 80’s; the barrette woven with thin ribbons, which hung down to reach your shoulders and were finished off with little wooden beads. The beads made a clicking sound when you ran or danced around. It was like pretend corn rows.

PPS: Is it appropriate for adult women to don hair ribbons?

Not Just for Spacemen Anymore

So I’m walking to work from the train this morning when I was blinded by what appeared to be half woman, half foil wrapped baked potato. I’m aware that there is a certain metallic phase going on in the world of fashion. Typical metallic accessories include (but are not limited to) purses, sandals, and belts. You’d be hard pressed to find pants, shirts or jackets outside the Future exhibit at Epcott Center. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to find ties and vests unless at a show choir concert. What you can find in the west loop of Chicago, though, is a kicky little item that is half thingy which holds your glasses around your neck a la librarian, and half child’s size clip on tie. Oh, and yes, the tie part was as silver as they come. Pair that with a silver vest, silver dangly earrings, the ones that are just chains that hang straight down to your shoulders, (See Lita Ford.), a shiny black button up shirt, silver framed sunglasses, a HUGE silver purse and a silver belt. Those poor pleated black pants with tapered legs and cuffs were overwhelmed by the Jiffy Pop top half. I couldn’t even get to the shoes. I’ll just imagine that they were silver hi-tops with big, fat, sparkly silver laces.

Ground control to Major Tom, please be aware that some Latina woman in Chicago has made off with your space suit.

They Freakin' Blow

Jessica and Ashlee (with that super cute double e) blow. So does their blowriffic dad. I must say, I was partial to Newlyweds. It amused me. Mildly. Tennis prowess aside, the Williams sisters bite, too. Hmm, who else? Jessica Alba blows because she makes a mockery of acting. She's not alone. I'm aware that there are a million super hot talent-free girls and guys out there and they all blow too. In fact, anyone who just wants to be famous for the sake of being famous blows. They deserve the tabloid crap and all the pictures.
Who blows worse, people who act super entitled and obnoxious, but don't realize it because they were raised that way? Or, people who act super entitled and obnoxious, and are totally aware they are doing so, but they don't care?

I blow too because I'm bothering to write about this shit. (And I'm late with my super step mom's bday.)
It's just that I have this knot in my back and I'm thinking if I vent about things that blow, it might lessen the tension. Oh, my back blows too.

I just heard that Mr. and Mrs. Smith blows. Incidentally, Jolie and Pitt are blowing hard (don't go THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) these days too.

This lawyer I dealt with today blows. So does her last name. I won't say it.

This CTA hag at the Blue Line Western Stop blows.

This skank that made my husband lose his lid to his travel mug on the train last night blows.

That other skank on the train this morning that nailed me in the stomach/hip bone (fucking ouch) with what I'm assuming is a bowling trophy in her bag blows.

Our elevators really blow.

Gwen Stefani's new "fashion" line blows.

The fact that Gwen Stefani's new "fashion" line blows, blows.

Monica said it was windy at lunch today. That blows.

Puns blow.

I'm done. Blowhard.

Style Minus Substance (And the Style Sucks Too)

The fox network is what I like to call an enigma. It is home of some of the best and some of the worst television on the planet. I like to think of Fox as the Heidi Fleiss of networks; flashy, savvy, money hungry, cunning, edgy and turbo speed, but is so focused on instant gratification that she becomes unable to experience much deep thought or make anytime for soul searching contemplation. How is Fox so savvy? Well, they have deliberately chosen to not fully commit to anyone market or demographic. They are absolute geniuses in tapping into the many subcultures of Americans. It seems as if they have this whole other level to market research outside age group and sex. And I think it involves brain cells.

What I like about Fox is, they can be very innovative, cleaver and quite dark. (See; 24, Arrested Development, Prison Break and surprisingly the O.C.) What I don’t like is that they can be a little too into instant gratification. What I mean is that they tend to spit some shows out so fast with all the necessary bells and whistles to cause a raucous and gain some attention, and perhaps they have a really unique gimmick or “gig” as I like to say, but yet they are so careless that they, at times overlook what is the most important, IMPORTANT, element of any good TV. show, movie, play, etc., the writing.

I know this is not anything new; I was just given a reminder of this last Thursday while watching the pilot of Reunion. I was drawn to the show because I thought concept was really cool. It goes back and forth from present day to the past, beginning with 1986 for the pilot. I’m assuming that each episode will be a new year examined in the life of this group of friends, the overall objective being to solve this crazy mystery.

I pretty much assumed that Fox would make the most of the 80’s time period by throwing out all the cheesy ass pop culture references they could. They did just that. However, they did it very, very sloppily and with no more thought than an elementary school music teacher directing a 3rd grade production of Grease. The music people did better than the wardrobe people in that they did an okay job compiling a soundtrack of songs actually from 1986. Then they’d have an occasional slip like playing Total Eclipse of the Heart, which came out in 1983. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if they consistently played songs from the 80’s, but up until that point and after that it was all songs from 1985 and 1986. Yeah, that was 7th grade and I’d like to forget it, but…These sins, I can forgive.

What I cannot possibly forgive is the contribution made (or not made) by the wardrobe, hair and make up teams. As I’m not a part of the Fox network, I cannot say who to blame these decisions on, probably some sleazy fat ass producer, but whoever they are, they suck for their lack of thought, consistency and follow through. A big part of 80’s pop culture was fashion, but it was also hair. Hair was a big deal in the 80’s. Aqua Net flowed through halls between classes. My head was so stiff with gel and mousse that it didn’t move. Teasing, ratting, banana clips, Bananarama, guys using gel and blow dryers. Pants were tight and shirts were big for girls. That brooch on the collar thing was huge. Chuck Taylor’s made resurgence. Paisley made an appearance. Big, big earrings and bright, bright color, big sweaters, long pearls, and Pretty in Pink. I’m sorry Reunion, but the Madonna Material Girl/Borderline BS was loooooong gone, unless you lived in a small town. Shoulder pads were starting to be velcro’d into everything.

And lets talk make up. Oh, my God. Brights all over the place. Colored mascara, bright pink lipstick (Wet N Wild #116, the stickiest crap ever). I’m going to quote a description of Christina Aguilera that I heard last night, “…you look like if I touched you, you’d be sticky.” That is 1986 hair and make up. I didn’t see any of this on this show last Thursday. I saw a bunch of pretty people playing dress up in some 80’s-ish fashions.

My dad has always said, “What is the point of doing anything if you don’t do it right?”Precisely, Dad. Had Fox bothered to commit to the actually period that they were filming in, they’d have an easier time transitioning the twenty year time jump. (As my dear husband said, “No, I’m sorry, but it’s NOT POSSIBLE for an actor to play 18 and 38.” Good old Fox had one idea to help us buy the time jump: Take the mousy, nice girl from 1986 and make her a heavy make up wearing smoker to indicate her age.

I was so long winded about the style I haven’t touched the writing. It’s so bad. Husband pointed out that perhaps since the pilot, they’ve got new writers. Perhaps he’s right, most elementary school kids are back in session now and don’t really have the time for writing a series anymore. Ha ha ha. I hope for the actors’ sake (especially the marvelous Matthew St. Patrick from Six Feet Under) that they do. I believe it highly unjust for Fox to employ the some of the most talented writers in the business for some shows and some of the worst for others. It’s not fair to the loyal viewers, and the actors (as they look really bad sometimes) to simply rely on a cool gig and let the substance fly by the wayside. You may let Heidi Fleiss throw your engagement party, but you wouldn’t let your write your wedding vows. (This is my second silly analogy of the day. See, http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog&pop=1 for the other one.

GROUP MIND

Many of us are busy, busy people with jobs, friends, family, chores, etc. I, personally, have a great immediate circle of friends with whom I socialize on a regular basis. Most of these friends I’ve met through my theatre world, and then there are the friends who I’ve met through those friends in the theatre world, but are not necessarily “theatre” people. People hang out with those that they share common interests with. My social world is very full and as it is, I don’t see many of my friends as much as I’d like to.

I don’t do much socializing at work because, frankly, most of the people here I don’t have much in common with, except working here. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I abhor forced group activity. I shunned any dorm activity my freshman year of college in favor of seeking out friends in a more organic matter. I failed to see how a jaunt to Dairy Queen for a study break (they made posters for this) would really bring people together. It can show who really likes ice cream or who has goals to be an R.A. or who cannot come up with their own things to do on a Thursday night.

I spent a lot of college “trolling” different groups. Pre-declared theatre major I would go out with a different group every night. Saturday it was the Rugby people and this awesome chick (later roommate) from my dorm, Sunday it was the stoners in Stevens Whitney, Monday it was the jocks in Stevens Whitney, Tuesday I geeked it up with library pals, Wednesday was the extreme sports, stoner dudes in Student Village (or Stud Ville), Thursday was the tennis player from my poetry class (whom I’m pretty sure was gay), Friday was the highlarious, dorky dudes with jock tendencies in Hitchcock. Then the next week I would hang with the radio dj’s or this weird little indie rock kid, or the folks from the dining hall, or the rock bands. It went on and on. I suppose I was finding myself and having one hell of a time. Once I did finally declare theatre and got super busy with plays and things, I was able to recruit so many people to come to the theatre, many of whom had never been. I felt like a little diplomat and I was proud to have been called the Mayor of Central Washington University.

I have deep, deep seeded issues, as many of us do, stemming from being shunned from groups. I would be repeatedly shunned as I kept failing to grasp the group rules. I talked to anyone and everyone. I learned that that was frowned upon in school. I dressed how I wanted and had a good time with clothes. Again, not the thing to do. I said eff the group long ago because any group (popular, choir geeks, drama nerds, regular nerds, etc) has their unwritten rules, which I could never abide by fully. Plus, if you accept to define yourself by a groups standards, people will judge you by those standards as well as the people within your group. It’s not just, but it does happen. Not everyone has an open mind. I cannot think of anything worse than someone thinking they know who you are based on who you happen to be with. Life’s just more colorful if you have friends scattered about many groups, you always had someone different to talk to and to learn from and very importantly, to come see your plays. (I’m really hoping that nobody is thinking of a United Colors of Benneton-sp? ad right now.)

I’d intended on addressing this lunch I had yesterday and this came out. The lunch incident will get mentioned in a future post. I gots to go study for my driving test!

Cyber Strangers...Sometimes they Creep Me Out

I like the idea of blogging. It keeps me "busy" at work and it lets me get stuff off my overinflated chest. (Yeah, now all you strangers know I'm stacked. Friends, you knew that anyway.) However, you cannot discern who reads and doesn't read your personal thoughts. You can apparently find out who is reading your thoughts, but beware. I don't think I'd want to know. Why is that? Well, frankly because there are a lot of creepos out there. I trust that there are more decent folks than creepos, but as someone who was recently contacted by some sleezoid who calls himself Masterbutter and prefers "friends" who have their pictures taken in some crappy appartment wearing underpants and Uggs laying on some dingy, used ass couch cushions, I'm a little put off by the unknown aspect of cyber communication. It also weirds me out that people put photos on their blogs, yet blur them so you cannot really see the image. Is it so horrifying? Is it about mystery? Or does your camera suck ass?

I'm an intuitive person and a sensitive person. I believe that you can learn a ton about a person just by shaking their hand, looking into their eyes and hearing the sound of their voice. People give off a million little hints to how they feel inside. It's a vibe thing. My instincts are really good and because of that it makes me feel somewhat in control of a situation, as you can tell immediately how a person may feel about you or you about them. For instance, I met a girl at a work party for my then boyfriend, now husband. Obviously, they all knew about me through him, but I'd yet to meet anyone. Most I met that night we're as friendly and cordial as I was being and I sensed nothing amiss. Then I met this wacko, and from the get go she had something to prove. Subconcious or concious a definite vibe was there. When we were introduced, her voice got louder, firmer and more direct. She looked me right in the eye, or rather, through the eye, piercing me with them. The most remarkable was the handshake. Goddamned if that bitch didn't try to break my hand. I believe in a firm handshake, but c'mon. What did I do? I squeezed right back. In retrospect, I wished I'd said "Ouch!", but instead I picked up her combative vibe and squeezed right back with a giant smile on my face. Classic passive aggressive response. Perfect for a party when you don't want to make a scene.

These are the beautiful moments in life that are missed in cyberspace communication. You can pick up tone and attitude in reading things. You can express your feelings through words, but you cannot ever experience the complex psychological and physiological actions and reactions experienced when meeting face to face. They sometimes speak so much louder than words.

I'll be the first to say that initial impressions do not always last. If you end up getting to know someone, you may find that your first impression was not an accurate picture of who the people all. However, the first impression is a launch point and a offers many clues on how you may want to interact with that person.

Maybe secrety I want to be an animal. Instict is all they have to go on. But we're animals of sorts and if "dogsth and beesth" sthmell feeeaaaar" and horses sense nervousness, then certainly we have like instincts. Maybe I just fear that with all this cyber communication we are getting out of touch of our basic instincts. Of course, if your basic instinct is to seduce and murder people with an ice pick, then perhaps it's best to continue on the cyber path.