Ultra Tag

This is fantastically exciting for me! I've never been 'tagged' in the blogosphere. Thanks to Bill Blunt, tag, I'm it. The rules require me to list 8 random things about myself and tag 8 other blogs in return. I'll happily oblige -

1. I never take the first item on the grocery shelf, usually the second in line, sometimes the third.
2. A former boss of mine was diagnosed as a sociopath (I knew it wasn't all in my head).
3. I am secretly in love with Conan O'Brien.
4. I thank God every morning for a body that works.
5. The scent of pine (fondly) reminds me of the first day of school.
6. I am arguably the world's, galaxy's, universe's biggest Stevie Nicks fan.
7. If I could meet 3 strangers on earth or in heaven, I would choose a 9/11 survivor, my paternal grandmother whom I never met and Ronald Reagan.
8. I am first generation American.
9. I like to end lists on an odd number.

Now for my tags:

I like the following blogs for the following reasons and I hope you will check them out!

• Ramblings of a Psychic: A very cool glimpse into the world of a reader and her telephonic customers.
• KchristieH: A nice blog of 'eclectic musings' and thought-provoking questions.
• Project Afterlight: A web designer and music lover who likes to write offers technical tips and interesting perspectives on reflection and other things.
• Don't Be Shy: A fresh blog about the struggles and advantages of being shy.
• Stupid Criminal Files: Entertaining and true accounts of dumb crooks
• Click: A beautiful Italian blog that proves photography communicates in any language
• Eighty Deuce on the Loose in Iraq: A personal experience of serving in Iraq
• Rantings of an Arab Chick: A special ed teacher with 'a foot in each hemisphere' comments on news, politics and personal life in a witty and intelligent manner.

Amy's All That

I love all sorts of music. Love Fleetwood Mac, love Sade, love Big & Rich, love Dave Brubek, Celia Cruz, The Gypsy Kings, Tina Turner, well, you get the idea. I go from here to there on the genre spectrum. Music is such a powerful medium. It can change your mood with a few notes, a few words. I deeply admire musicians and I sure appreciate a creative song with a good hook among the cookie cutter pop tarts today.

One such musician is the undeniable Amy Winehouse, British jazz songstress. Amy is a bit unconventional, one of her appealing traits. She's high on the charts now with "Rehab" and another great jangle, "You Know I'm No Good", is following close behind. The lyrics for rehab are funny but speak Amy's truth, I think. It's very catchy and her voice is absolutely genuine. I find myself singing "they wanna make me go to rehab" at my desk at work. That turns a head or two. It's great fun.

As for Amy's look, it's a little shall we say heroin-chic lately and also a bit slutty. So, perhaps not the best choice for a tween idol. But for us grown folks, Amy's a good find indeed. Give Rehab a whirl for yourself!

The Scarlet Letter Remixed

The crooks are on to something with this one. It seems four criminals branded "SNITCH" on a woman's face during a surprise attack after luring her into an apartment. They allegedly did this in retaliation for her reporting two of them to Arizona's Department of Child Protective Services for endangerment involving drug abuse. The couple's kid(s) were taken away as a result. Awww.

Let's turn the tables and brand the criminals instead of the victims. Wouldn't you like to know if your new babysitter had a drinking problem? I bet a big "DUI" across her forehead would be helpful. Or the teacher of your son's first grade class sporting a "pedophile" in small block letters from one cheek to the other via the bridge of the nose. This is fun! One more..."fraudster" branded into your financial advisor's palm.

Relax, ACLU. Of course this could never happen. People deserve a second chance. Just not a ninth or tenth one. Sizzzzle....

Don't Be a Target

After analyzing robberies for years at work, it's become habit to take precautions that make me a harder target. Are you aware of small changes you can make to encourage thieves to pick on someone else? Let me explain. Cell phone snatches are about to overtake your age-old purse snatch nationwide. With all those sexy models out there and plenty of ways around activating a stolen phone, cells are robbery magnets.

• Try to avoid talking and walking down the sidewalk or in parking lots. Wait until you're stationary and around groups of people.

I know, the point of a cell is the convenience of the walk and talk. However, you're distracted by your conversation and may not realize someone's about to run up on you from behind, grab the phone out of your hand and bolt. That's the M.O. for most cell snatches. If possible, make your calls while still sitting in your car with the doors locked. Or wait until you're among more people than on a neighborhood sidewalk, like at a mall.

• Don't get a false sense of security if you don't see anyone else on the street around you. Thieves often work in teams and chirp each other about approaching victims.

Suspect 1 might be at the window in his apartment watching for people on cells to approach the corner. He sees you and chirps his buddy waiting on a porch around the corner you'll soon pass. Before you know it...Snatch! Your phone and the suspect are running out of sight. You're left dumbfounded without any description at all because it happened so fast.

• Sign up for Web access with T-Mobile Sidekicks.

In my city, Sidekick phones are the most desirable to steal because of the cool features. They're also easy to spot from a distance because of the two-thumbed texting the keyboard allows. It's an extra charge to get the Web access, but Sidekicks are the only phone that uploads data daily to the T-Mobile server. So, any texting, photos, calls, etc., the suspects make with your stolen phone will be stored on the Web for you to print out and take to detectives. Or be sure to tell detectives what your code is so they can access the web content. Suspects won't have your web log-on code to delete the content. However, if you sign up for access after the phone was stolen, the log-on info will be automatically sent to your stolen phone, so not a good idea.

• Be wary of anyone who approaches and asks for something while you're on your cell.

Common sense tells you something's up with people who are going to interrupt a stranger on the phone. Suspects often ask for the time, change, cigarettes or directions while they're catching you off guard and sizing up your phone model. These thieves often approach on bikes. As you're distracted by their question, your phone's snatched and away they go.

Remember, it's us against them. They have their tricks and plays. You should have yours, too.

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Pimp Juice, Whoop Ass and Kickbutt Amped Energy Balls

Energy drinks, they're everywhere. I continue to resist peer pressure at work to 'just drink one already'. I'm holding the line, but I might just cave soon. My coworkers love them, as do many of my friends. Around two in the afternoon, the tops pop, the satisfied "aaahhhs" are audible and a faint citrussy sweetness infuses the air. So what's not to like?

I'm afraid of them. I think they might be canned heart attacks. I think they're loaded with caffeine, weird bull amino acids and spoonfuls of sugar. Sigh. I can no longer support my argument on assumptions. Fact-finding is in order. In fact, I think it's time for a... 'jammigation'. Yes, that's right. I'm inventing words here on UltraJam because, well, because I can.

Anyway, I researched and discovered some surprises, including a fondness for the industry's naming convention - It's totally unconventional! There are some hilarious names out there, whether or not they're intended to be funny is a different matter. Back on point. Here's my list of fears and facts. (I found a great deal of info on www.energyfiend.com, linked repeatedly below)

• They're lethal caffeine bombs - No. A 16 oz. Starbucks coffee has more at 372 mg than an average like-sized e-drink at 344 mg. Many of the e-drinks have higher caffeine concentrations of mg/oz, but even those don't approach the tall Starbucks coffee.


• They might jack up my heart and kill me - Negative. Thinking they contained obscene levels of caffeine, a central nervous system stimulant, I logically concluded I might vapor lock my system. And I take blood pressure pills. It seems I'd need to drink about 98 cans of Monster at once to do so. Check out the 'death by caffeine' meter for your own demise. Still, some researchers claim that e-drinks stack the deck by not extracting the caffeine found in guarana, another common ingredient, on the nutrition label. And then there's the matter of 245 cases of "caffeine abuse" reported to the Chicago Poison Control Center in three years. The average age of the patient was 21, and most of the cases involved e-drinks taken with alcohol or other drug stimulants.


• They contain strange bull mojo - True, to a point. Most contain taurine, an amino acid used to make bile for aiding digestion. Rumors have it that taurine is extracted from bull urine and testicles. Not. But then there's that whole "Red Bull" name thing. Well, it was first isolated from bull (Bos taurus) bile in 1827 by Austrian scientists and named after the Greek word for bull, or 'taurus'. In people, taurine results from synthesis in the liver. As for how taurine gets in the e-drink cans, rumor also had it that it was extracted from bull intestines and added to the e-drinks by manufacturers. Gulp. The most definite answer I could find was on Wikipedia. Taurine is sometimes extracted from the intestines of cattle, but many food industry sources, including Red Bull, make efforts to use synthesized sources that are vegetarian friendly. Danger! "Make efforts" to me sounds like there could be squirts of bull intestine taurine in e-drinks. Granted, I've likely eaten worse in a hot dog, but still...

In all fairness to taurine, it's not a stimulant. It might be added to e-drinks to actually reduce the effects of high caffeine dosage, if that makes any sense. It can also reduce muscle fatigue. It's used in some contacts solution and cats need it for good health. Most e-drinks contain anywhere from 2,000 to 5,000 mg of taurine. I'm thinking 5,000 mg of anything is not a good idea.

E-drinks seem less risky than I formerly thought. I don't know, though. Call me old-fashioned, but I think I'll pick my poison and stick with coffee.

Now the best part, the wacky e-drink names. With over 500 brands competing last year alone, companies are trying to stand out. Many are inventing provocative names to do so. Here are are few faves:

• Kronik, Swing Juice, Cocaine, Crunk, Who's Your Daddy?, Pimp Juice, Whoop Ass and Kickbutt Amped Energy Balls.

7-11 stores banned Cocaine e-drink. What's next? Crystal Meth breath mints? Cha-ching. Oh, and if you can't tell, I'm not a medical professional. Please don't take any of this information to be sound medical advice.

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Vile Men Picked Off

The world is a little safer for children today as British police and U.S. authorities crashed a global internet pedophile ring of 700 suspects and 31 child victims. Most of the children live in London, some only a few months old. About a third of the suspects are also London-based. Officials said the U.S., Canada and Australia provided major investigative support, along with help from 35 countries in total.

Police used surveillance methods normally practiced for anti-terror and drug trafficking operations to expose this ring from the bottom up to top level players. They traced the ring to a chat room called "Kids the Light of Our Lives" offering streaming videos of kids enduring horrible sexual torture.

Bravo, police! I can only imagine the scores of investigators who likely put their own lives and families on hold in pursuit of bringing down the devil. I know from my own workplace how investigations consume officers and sometimes devour them for years with no tangible outcome. It encourages me so much that people like these investigators are here with us, on our side, willing to sacrifice and tip the scales back towards goodness.

It seems to me there really is a constant pull between good and evil around here. An ancient tug-o-war from the beginning of time. At some point, everyone must choose what side of the rope they will tow. What makes a man cross over to filth? What happens to the decency inside a person when they offend against children, especially? Is it completely snuffed out or is it still there, screaming into the perv's conscience only to be pushed aside by twisted desire? Well, luckily 700 such unspeakables are now in custody. Let's hope the charges stick.

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Candy Man

As a crime analyst, I read stacks of police reports each day. Yesterday I devoured a load of narcotics arrests. Today I am wondering what it might be like to be a drug dealer, i.e., a "baller", "bidnessman", "pusher", "pharmacist" or "candy man". I began with a career comparison to my civil service job. Let's see...

1. I am not required to be on-call. Their cells and pagers blow up 24/7. That's a lot of pressure.



2. I do not need bilingual skills. They must speak drug. Would you understand if someone asked you for a fat albert (fentanyl), moon rock (crack mixed with heroin), biscuit (50 rocks of crack), mac & cheese ($5 of pot and dime bag of cocaine) or wake and bake (a hit first thing in the morning)? Communication is key in every business.



3. I have a permanent work space. They must negotiate corner real estate with neighborhood thugs.



4. If I make a mistake, I can usually fix it by editing my work product. If they make a mistake, like sell someone flea powder (low quality heroin) or perp (fake cocaine made with baking soda and wax), they will likely suffer a nasty physical injury and perhaps never be heard from again.



5. So far, the scales (no pun intended) are tipped in favor of my job...now about the cream. I make about $270 a day. Not a bad haul. Then of course Uncle Sam takes his share. Juvenile gang members dealing cocaine daily can make about $1,000 a week , tax free, with an average of 30 sales and about 16 hours of work. I fall short on that one; I work about 45 hours a week.



6. I really don't turn anyone into an addict by analyzing crime trends, unless of course they're captured by my flair for drama and crave more, more, more. Dealers push to millions of kids and adults every day and night.

No, I haven't any future in narcotics sales. Snarkyness aside, I think dealers are the worst of the worst simply on the volume of people they enable. Drug abuse is directly linked to most major property crimes, many violent crimes and innumerable destruction of the family unit. The candy man, in this context, is nothing short of a horrible mutation of humanity gone wrong.

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Ingenious

My day is instantly kicked up a notch when I run across one of the "Axe" deodorant spray commercials, otherwise known as "Bomchicawahwahs". So righteously hilarious. Have you seen the newest one in the dentist's office? A condensed version is embedded here, along with another great one where a girl tracks the scent in the grocery store. Whew! Beneath the weight of Parisopoly and Bacagate, creativity lives on!

The Dumbing Down of Barbara

Remember when Barbara Walters was a serious journalist? The first female network evening news coanchor. Interviews with heads of state - Sadat and Begin, Margaret Thatcher, Hugo Chavez. What's happened to Barbara? Even beyond The View, the silly questions and comments, she's taken a turn for the worse lately.

Barbara really crossed over to the dark side with this latest update from Paris in the glamor slammer. It seems she has appointed herself Hilton family spokesperson - and found a clever way around that restriction on interviews from jail. Walters has twice relayed her personal phone conversations with Hilton's mother and Paris herself. Watching Barbara read her recollection off a piece of paper complete with dramatic pauses and an expression I can't quite interpret, was just flat out dumb. Man, so many proper social buttons pressed in one short phone call: God, the troops, cancer research, sick kids. Baby steps, Paris. First, get a job.

I think Barbara should have asked Paris how she feels about taking a space in the acute mental illness ward because of humiliation, a little claustrophobia and some dry skin. I want to hear about the mystery medication that she failed to disclose at intake...could it be perhaps ALCOHOL? I think everyone is jail is probably a little depressed, so that one doesn't even count.

Ahh! I've entered the Paris vortex again. Back to Barbara's new interpretation of journalism. Thinking folks everywhere, I beg you, hold the line! Resist the spin. And visit the recall Sheriff Baca website while you're at it.

Charmed by One Murderer, Disgusted by Another

Exhale! He survived...thank god. Through the years, I became quite fond of him. This murderer charmed me, while another we met this week makes me want to snap his neck. Edwin Hall, arrested for Kelsey Smith's killing, just looks like a bad man. I look at his mug shot and I see nothing I can relate to. Tony Soprano, on the other hand, why he's an old friend.

Don't worry, I know Tony Soprano didn't really kill anyone; he's fictional for heaven's sake. Just humor me for a moment. In theory, Tony was likable. His quirks and fallacies, worries and insecurities made him familiar. Is that the difference? Familiarity? I look at Hall's photo and I feel nothing but contempt. I think, how could he have a wife and young child? How could someone like that attract love?


Isn't that a common reaction when we see the faces belonging to those who offend horribly? You say, ugh, how could you live with someone like that? How could you not know? Well, everyone must have someone who relates to them, or to parts of them. I can't imagine being Hall's wife, trying to separate the husband from the murderer. The familiar from the unknown. Perhaps even good from bad.

Of course I have much more sympathy for Kelsey's family than Hall's wife. Just pondering the complexities of the human condition. Depending on your era of choice, wasn't it Manfred Mann or The Divinyls who said it's a fine line between pleasure and pain? A fine line, indeed.
Sopranos

Judge Baca

Whoa there Sheriff! Ignoring the judge's orders and arguing with him about picking the defendant up for appearance...dang what a cowboy. Last time I checked, the one with the robe trumps the one with the stars. In this case that would be the stars on the collar and the 'star' in handcuffs.

What a gust of fresh air from Judge Sauer. Proper procedure was not followed and he wasn't gonna have it today. No motion filed for the medically motivated reassignment. Paris intending to dial in to court on the blackberry. Kaboom! Back to the House of Orange.

I don't enjoy the pictures of Paris bawling in the back of the black and white. It's a sad photo. But guess what, sister? Sometimes life is hard. Just ask Martha Stewart. Speaking of, BIG PROPS to Martha. In the face of Paris' flame out in court, Martha's behavior from early check-in to zero display of whining speaks volumes about her pride and maturity. Could this really be the first time Paris hasn't gotten her way? Is that really possible at age 26? I distinctly remember when I first began to realize people do choose how they react. It was in the Barbie aisle of Toys R Us about 35 years ago. A fellow four-year-old was totally losing it at her mother who was making her choose between two dolls.

Maybe Paris always gets both Barbies.

Well, it's not good karma to end on a bitter note. I don't want unreasonable punishment for Paris or anyone else. Let's do remember though that drunk driving is the best tolerated violent crime in this country. Eighteen thousand killed by drunk drivers in 2006 alone. That's one every 30 minutes. Here is a link to some very graphic photos of what a lethal weapon a vehicle can be. At least Paris and her Bentley won't be swerving around the town for the next 40..I mean two or three days.

Lady Justice Sucker-Punched

Okay, one more pathetic Paris post. First, I request the work days on my time card be calculated on Paris' Five for Three plan. Credit for 120 hours with only 76 on the books. Sweet! Also in the Paris Prison Package for Delicate Guests: visits from private psychologist, reversing judge's order for no house arrest and the very best feature, precedent for prison stress warranting release! Any takers on that one? I'm guessing a few hundred thousand. (Yes, yes, I know - she wasn't released. She was reassigned. And Andrew Speaker just has a chest cold.)

A plea to newscasters and 'investigative reporters' everywhere: Please, no more speculation on whether this experience of doing time has changed Paris or not. Paris is not going to be an advocate for stressed out inmates, donate millions to MADD or stop making money for just being. Paris is chilling at home eating cupcakes. Yes, that's hot! It's a steaming bag of pile.

Paris' Parallel Universe

Yes, I know, enough Paris Hilton already. I'm with you my friends, but I just can't resist commenting on today's 'top story' (as it was billed on about every newscast I flipped through). It seems Paris was traumatized by 'jail' to the point of a medical situation that warranted her reassignment to home with a ankle bracelet. Boo hoo.

Am I the only one who sees the similarities between Paris' posh home life and the House of Orange? Let's see...

• "People" open her mail for her at home - Check. People do that for you in jail, too.


• People do her laundry at home - Another Check.


• People cook for her at home - Checkeroo.


• Visitors/fans have to pass through a security gauntlet to see Paris at home - Checkaleckabingbom.


• In the past, Paris has been video taped for observation at home - Check.o.rama.

That's a lot of familiarity with the House of Orange! What gives? Well, best wishes for a speedy recovery, Paris. Thousands of young girls are waiting to be influenced by your next mistake. (I'm filing this one under crime because it fits on so many levels.)

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Snatched

The snatching of Kansas teen, Kelsey Smith, from a Target lot at dusk was obscene. Taking someone by force from a public parking lot in front of a popular store in daylight? That is serious adrenaline in very evil form. In fact, it reminds me of a movie I saw last weekend, "Mr. Brooks".

If you haven't seen it yet, "Brooks" portrays a serial killer who gets a spectacular rush from murdering strangers with the help of his very logical and cunning alter ego, Marshall. Long story short, there are scenes of Mr. Brooks teaching a serial killer trainee how to do the job. In particular, they drive around town looking at people coming out of shops, restaurants, walking down the street, intent on choosing one to kill. The scene is surreal and dangerously entertaining precisely because it conveys that rush of excitement you feel when you're on the hunt to find the very best whatever at a big sale.

But this hunt for people, for murdering people, could it really happen that way? That...casually? What disturbed me most about the movie was not the graphic scenes, but the notion that someone somewhere is watching. They are watching from a detached perspective with dark intentions.

I'm a crime analyst by trade and read plenty of police reports about people behaving badly. I know Kelsey's kidnapping is not the first time someone has been taken this way; children all over the world are snatched under our noses every day. This one is just especially vile to me. Maybe the coincidence of "Mr. Brooks" having opened the day before is too unsettling. Or maybe it's because another murderer has proven with their actions how powerful the God-given gift of free will really is.

Rosie Nation? "YES or NO"

I've slept on it and taken my best shot at objectivity. The verdict is in: Rosie O'Donnell is the playground bully. Leave political opinions and moral judgements out of it and think about demeanor. Rosie does not discuss. She does not speak in turn and allow the others to explain their viewpoints. Rosie says, "YES or NO!" Rosie barks and blasts her thoughts and does not relent until the receiver is too rattled to respond sensibly, reactions she likes to peddle as cowardice, defeat or unawareness. No. It is simply recovery time. A lapse taken to adapt to someone breaking an assumption of civility, just like the bully who shoves you out of line for the monkey bars. It becomes all about the shove. You fall down, you startle, maybe you push back, maybe not. While you're processing what's just happened, the bully is laughing. They are loving your disorientation and they are rallying others to ridicule your hesitation. And what about those damn monkey bars? The bully never tries to make it across. You do, but it no longer matters. It's all about the shove.

No monkey bars in grown-up land. Now we have issues to decide upon. We line up behind them and wait our turn to share what we think. And the bully's still here, shoving us out of line with a yap gone wild. Humans should give a basic level of respect to each other. Shouting opinions down someone's eustachian tubes is obnoxious and suspicious. (Remember when Rosie said 9/11 was the first time fire melted steel? Um, I believe that's how steel is made.) But it makes great TV. What does that say about us?

So which are you? The bully or the startled kid? Honestly, I think I'm both. Maybe that's normal. I know that whenever I've bullied, I have felt a little sick afterwards. I know it's not right, it's not civil. When I've done it, I've just wanted to be right. It's not important that I am or not, it's just important that I win. But I can say that in my adulthood, bullying is rare. Over the years it has been dwarfed by reason, facts and a genuine curiosity to explore ideas. What? Is that maturity speaking?