Seriously? This is an outrage?

There has been a lot of press coverage in the last several weeks about the lack of privacy on Facebook. It’s even the cover story on Time Magazine. Time used 1,295 Facebook profile pics to create a mosaic for the front cover…because showing photos of Facebook users on a national publication isn’t a privacy concern. But it is on Time, so not that many people will see it.

All of this stems from Facebook changing its privacy settings which gives people the option for non-friends to view your Facebook profile.

Note the operative word…option.

There is a very simple solution to the privacy problem, and it’s not Facebook revamping its site. This is not a “Facebook issue”; It’s a “you issue”. You are not required to post any personal data on Facebook. There is no gun to your head. You can keep your profile void of information. You can even control your own privacy settings so that only friends see your page.

This is akin to people blaming the microwave manufacture for a faulty machine because their houses burned down while they were microwaving a fork. These are the same people who need a disclaimer on a gas can that reads “Warning: Do Not Use a Match to Look In Gas Can.”

YOU control the stream of information going out. I have friends that lie about their birthdays. Some choose not to put any personal information. Don’t post that you’ll be out of town and have your address on your profile. If your mother has her maiden name on her profile, don’t point out that she’s your mother (it sounds cold…but come on).

Anytime I fill out any form on line, I give a friend’s birth date and a false address…1060 W. Addison, Chicago, IL 60657 (which if you don’t know, it’s Wrigley Field). I got that idea from the Blues Brothers. Judging by the effort the Cubs are giving this year, I’m guessing all my junk mail isn’t the only worthless things showing up at Wrigley this year (sadly).

As my old theater director used to say, “Be smarter than your shoes.” It’s not a government plot, it’s a website.

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Night Swimming

Originally posted on the Indianapolis Star Blog "Tales of a Hoosier Ex-Pat"

When you're a kid, there are certain benchmarks that define the year. For me, the summer always had an ebb and flow with some major annual events.

Memorial Day Weekend – Indy 500 and the unofficial start of summer
Last Week of June – Thunder on the Ohio
Fourth of July – Midpoint of summer
Last week of July/First Week of August – Family Vacation
August 17 – My Birthday
Labor Day Weekend – Frog Follies and the unofficial end of summer

As I have gotten older and moved away from Indiana, Thunder and the Follies have become more of a nostalgic concept rather than a seasonal marking of time, and I haven't had a full family vacation since 1987. However, I still view my birthday as the white flag for summertime. This summer was a lot like watching Casino, I sat around and waited for it to start and then it was over. Don't get me wrong. In my old age, and living in an apartment that lacks air conditioning, I'm not overjoyed by sweltering days with 1000% humidity. I'm not really ready to let go of this summer. Not just yet. I really like the fall, but I can put it on hold for a little bit. It's not like my 35^th year was not all roses. D and I had to push back the wedding again, and I became victim 3, 593, 293 of the economy. I really need a fresh start to a new year.

Since I first got Automatic for the People, I have always equated the song "Night Swimming" to my birthday. It's a sentimental song about the end of an era. The song, and the day never used to hit me that hard until about 4 years ago.

There are many things that I am going to miss. I'm going to miss riding my bike in decent weather. I'm going to miss the smell of sun screen. I'm going to miss trying to figure out when the Cubs are going to blow it again. I'm going to miss not hearing from the blowhards in this state go on and on about the stinkin' Vikings. The unbelievable feeling of drinking a cold glass of water will be lost soon, and I'm going to deal with space heaters and frozen cars.

Now, my major events run like this.

October 15 – The average date of the first day of snow
May 3^rd – The latest day of snow in my 7 years in Minnesota
June 1^st – The first of a maximum of 115 days where doing something outside doesn't suck

As REM said in that song "September's coming soon." Happy Birthday to me.

Do They Still Play the Blues In Chicago?

I just...can't even...

Dodgers 3, Cubs 1. LA wins 3-0

Dear God, Not Again

I can't even watch. What the hell is happening to the Cubs?

I Want to Believe

No, this is not a review of the new X-Files movie, although I have seen it. It’s actually one of those movies you can’t review. It wasn’t bad, and it wasn’t good—all at the same time. I don’t know how this can happen (I think that the United States Government has a lot to do with it). When a movie is like that, it doesn’t lend it self well to a review. It becomes a dull read.

No, this entry has a far more sinister meaning than people being compelled to see David Duchovny sans shirt at the age of 97 (or how ever old he is). It’s about the Chicago Cubs.

I think that it’s fair to note that I have two baseball teams. I have been a Cubs fan since I was six years old, and I became a Red Sox fan soon after I started watching “Cheer’s” (and since Major League, I will always have a soft spot for the Indians). So until 2004, I felt the pain on both sides, especially right after both the Cubs and Red Sox lost their championship series that they should have won the year before. Since then, the Sox have won two commissioner’s trophies, and the Cubs have…well, been the Cubs.

Even after watching the Cubs sweep the Brewers, building a cozy five game lead over both Milwaukee and the hated St. Louis Cardinals, and hearing the youthful optimism of friend and fellow Cubs sufferer “The Reach”, I am really fighting the urge to get excited.

I want to believe. But I just can’t.

I’ve been down that road before. I was convinced that the Cubs would have clobbered the Tigers in the clandestine World Series in 1984, but they found the worst time to lose three games straight to the Padres. San Diego went on to get bounced in five games. One game away. That’s all they were…ONE—FLIPPIN’—GAME. All I got out of this “lesson of life”, as my father called it, was an empty promise of “next year” and Harry Caray rapping.

Then there was 1989, which seemed like a good year for redemption…Then San Francisco proved that they were the superior team, and the one best suited to get waxed in the series…again in five games.

I didn’t really get fired up for 1998, although that was my last trip to Wrigley (Sammy hit 49 off of Orel Hershiser that day), or 2001, but 2003 was a different story. They had the best pitching tandem that I have ever seen in Cubs pin stripes. They were playing a Florida team that was just lucky to even make the playoffs. I call my IMed my friend Ben in California that we were only nine outs away from a dream. All would be forgiven—Lee Durham in 1984, trading Dave Kingman, letting Greg Maddox go. Nine outs away…

And then—

I sat and watched as the Cubs gave the game to the Marlins. I sat in my living room (with my ex-girlfriend there) and buried my face in my hands.

“Dear God…not again.”

And then, like Keyser Soze…it was gone. Florida went on to win the World Series, which was their second in six years, and the Cubs were now 95 year losing streak. It wasn’t fair, and it still isn’t. I know that many Cub fans have forgiven Bartman…but I just can’t. Not now, not ever.

Unless—

Well, I want to believe. But I just can’t.