Steal this advice, part 3

Dear Abbie Hoffman,

I recently had my Bar Mitzvah and took my birthright trip to Israel.While there I was fortunate enough to spend time on a kibbutz and experienced socialized living. It made me feel funny and good all at the same time.  I experienced inside feelings that I'd never had before and had some really vivid dreams. I can't go into detail about the dreams because if my mom reads this she'll freak.

Do you think all this mean I'm becoming more of a man? I'm hoping that you might have some advice for a young Jewish boy who is trying to understand these special feelings and dreams.

Oh, and my little brother won't leave me alone about this, he wants me to ask you for him if you think cowboys like lollipops...He's so dumb.

Thanks for your time.

-New And A Little Confused

Dear NAALC,

Mazel tov! I see Judaism as a way of life. Sticking up for the underdog. Being an outsider. A critic of society. The kid on the corner who says the emperor has no clothes on. The Prophet.

As for those funny feelings and vivid dreams, I’m not sure if you’re talking about sex or drugs. If you’ve started smoking grass or whatnot, that’s fine, but all you kiddies remember to lay off the needle drugs; the only dope worth shooting is Richard Nixon, or since he’s gone, maybe one of those Tea Party guys.

Anyway, the '60s are gone, dope will never be as cheap, sex never as free, and the rock and roll never as great.

Hang in there,

Abbie

P.S. Tell your brother that everybody likes lollipops, even Julius Hoffman.

Steal this advice, part 2

Finally, Abbie gets a question from a real reader! (Not that those other questions from readers were fake... um, uh, look over there at that thing!) -Ed.



Dear Abbie Hoffman,

I am an urban dwelling Midwestern liberal homeowner in a multi-unit condo building in Chicago. Eight months ago, the unit downstairs from me from me sold to a middle aged couple who turn out to be supporters of the Tea-Party. The whole building found this out after they moved in.

During an association meeting they began to question the relevance of being charged an assessment every month to help toward the maintenance, upkeep and well being of the building. They feel that they haven't seen any major improvement in the building in the short time they lived there or any improvement in the "quality" of any of the new homeowners who moved in after them.

As the condo association President and an American born minority I am having great difficulty in getting them to understand that I'm not a "benevolent dictator" that directs their assessment fees into affordable housing and real estate growth opportunities to "border jumpers". All of us are gainfully employed professionals in diverse fields who take great pride in the place that we live.

Why are they in the city of Chicago living among us? How should I go about explaining to them that assessment fees are for the steady upkeep of the place that we live? I get called "socialist" when I attempt to explain that these fees help us all live harmoniously in a quality environment and that major changes to the building should happen incrementally and require great pragmatism.

- Why Do They Always Find Me

p.s. All words in quotes belong to them.



Dear Why,

You measure a democracy by the freedom it gives its dissidents, not the freedom it gives its assimilated conformists. Maybe your new brother and sister have a point about the way you do things. QUESTION EVERYTHING.

If, however, you truly believe they are not living up to their responsibilities as citizens of your community, remember this: The key to organizing an alternative society is to organize people around what they can do, and more importantly, what they want to do. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Tea Party enjoy working in the yard. Ask them to cut the grass (but not smoke it all!), plant your garden, maintain the compost pile, etc. instead of paying association fees.

By the way, I have many fond memories of your hometown.

Yours truly,
Abbie

Steal this advice

Last night while I was in bed, half asleep, a great title came to me: Dear Abbie Hoffman. On a lark, I posted it on Facebook and then got inspired to write a few letters, using actual quotes from Abbie for the answers. Here are the first efforts; who knows, there may be more sometime.

Dear Abbie Hoffman,

I am an editor of my high school's newspaper. The principal is trying to prevent us from running an editorial that criticizes his position on gay bullying. What should we do?

-First Amended

Sweet FA,

Remind your principal that free speech means the right to shout "theatre" in a crowded fire. But also remember that you should never impose your language on people you wish to reach.

Your pal,

Abbie

***

Dear Abbie Hoffman,

It is almost Thanksgiving. I know most people look forward to the holiday, but for me it's a source of anxiety. I am a vegetarian and my father is a die-hard meat-and-potatoes guy. How do I maintain peace at the dinner table without compromising my principles?

-Vexed Veggie

Dearest Vexed,

I believe in compulsory cannibalism. If people were forced to eat what they killed, there would be no more wars.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Abbie

***

Dear Abbie Hoffman,

What is with all the women who wear slutty Halloween costumes? I went to a party last weekend and I was the only female there who wore something scary. Isn’t Halloween the time to put vanity aside and go for something ghoulish?

-Scary Monster

Look baby,

Once you get the right image the details aren't that important. Take it from me: I was probably the only revolutionary referred to as cute.

Abbie H.

***

Dear Abbie Hoffman,

I work in a professional downtown office. One of my co-workers (I’ll call him Steve) has a problem with body odor. Steve works hard, is personable, and even dresses well. Since he otherwise seems well groomed, I wonder if his odor problem is due to faulty deodorant, a health issue, or something else beyond his control. Unfortunately, his desk is near mine and I find his pungent aroma distracting to say the least. Should I say something?

-This Job Stinks


Dear TJS,

When decorum is repression, the only dignity free men have is to speak out. Maybe you can offer Steve some patchouli.

Good luck,
Sweet-Smelling Abbie

Indigestion

Long time, no post. I need to write a lil' somethun' somethun' about the epic trip to Memphis with my mom. And my summer reading. I'll do that soon. I really will.

I'm about to eat lunch and I feel like my stomach is still recovering from the damage I did to it on Sunday, when I saw the White Sox get massacred by the Tigers. Sigh. What the Tigers did to the Sox in the last few innings is akin to what I did to my digestive system -- involving a veggie dog that looked remarkably like the 50-year-old hot dog Kramer ate to prove Lloyd Braun wasn't crazy; a churro that was vanilla although I wanted chocolate because during the several minutes he made me and the guy behind me with kids wait while he meticulously stacked new churros under the heat lamp one by one, the vendor didn't bother to mention that he was out of what I'd ordered; an entire pint of Lemon Chill; and greasy Chinese food for dinner. My friend Emily and I managed to get covered in alcoholic beverages, too, even though we weren't drinking any, thanks to getting sprayed by the guys behind us, a margarita vendor with a runny nozzle, and someone seemingly sending their epileptic friend on a beer run (seriously, the woman's hands were shaking like crazy and each one had a beer in it, including the one with which she was trying to clutch the handrail). Good times.

The schizophrenic decade

I’ve recently taken a journey back to the 1990s, courtesy of Charles Cross’ Kurt Cobain biography, Heavier than Heaven. The book came out eight years ago but it’s taken me until now to read it in large part because I figured it would be emotionally draining. Even after all this time I found myself crying toward the end of the book, something I don’t think I’ve ever done before. There were so many issues that seemed to contribute to his unhappiness – poor parenting, a family history of mental illness, undiagnosed medical issues, drug abuse, family and financial obligations, celebrity. And there were an awful lot of just plain skeezy people around (as I suppose there always are when someone has money and an addiction).

A funny thing, to me, is that while the whole American/Northwest/grunge thing had become so dark and depressing at that point, on the flipside this was also the era of Britpop. Not that Britpop was brainless fun – there certainly was an element of social commentary to it – but it was definitely uplifting compared to what was going on here. It’s a bit like the Kinks going off and doing songs about magical cats and village greens while the Americans were wallowing in psychedelic sludge. I’m taking sides, mind you: I like it all.

Here’s to a schizophrenic decade.

My bathroom needs your assistance

Since I last wrote, I have closed on and moved into my condo. The last several weeks of my life have revolved around fix-it projects, finding a few new pieces of furniture, etc. Now it's time to choose some bathroom paint! This is supposed to be the fun part, and I suppose it will be... until I get my Visa bill.

I've found three colors that I like, and would love to hear some opinions. Here are a couple of things to keep in mind: 1) My bathroom has white wood paneling that I plan to keep, and I'll also keep the white ceiling. The new paint will only go about halfway down the wall, so a color that might be "too much" if it covered all four walls could work. 2) My towels contain pink, orange-red, yellow, beige, and brown. The tile in the tub is a light blue. I've been doing a decent job of hiding the nonmatching tile, but it would be good to have a color that doesn't clash with it.

Here are the colors I like so far:

yellowstone

baby turtle

love & happiness

Yes, they all have silly names. But which do you prefer?

Mission accomplished

I've been looking for a record cabinet for awhile. Trolling eBay and Craigslist has become an obsession of mine. I finally lucked out last night, finding one at a good price from someone on the South Side, not too far from work. Because I have a few hundred records, I will still need one or two more (either a large one or a couple of smaller ones) to hold everything, but I really like this cabinet. It's in very good shape and I think it's pretty darned cute. Don't you agree?