WTOP in Washington issued an apology yesterday after former defensive end Dexter Manly called former Cowboys quarterback Troy Aikman a name that's just not acceptable in a public forum or anywhere really. (So we can move on and so you don't click away, the word was queer.)
Now, it's been awhile, but I don't remember Manly as being one of the NFL's most cerebral players to begin with, so I'm not really sure why WTOP producers would want to put a mike in front of the man anyway, except for he probably comes cheap.We're talking about a guy who actually managed to get himself kicked out of the NFL for failing drug tests ("In 1989, Manly failed his third drug test and was banned for life, with the opportunity for reinstatement in one year." Yes, you read it right. He was finally really truly banned for life in '91 after a fourth failed test, and served time for cocaine possession in the mid-'90s.)
So unless Dexter Manly is talking about, oh, "Breaking Bad," or "Orange is the New Black," I don't really care what he has to say.
What caught my attention though, is the WTOP apology that began: "This morning in a live interview former Redskins player Dexter Manley made an offensive and derogatory comment."
Remember kids, there's been an uproar off and on for years over the Washington football club's nickname. It has been especially intense since August when owner Dan Snyder saying outright he'll never change the team
name. Some writers are refusing to use
it this season, and the Associated Press, New York Times and other media outlets jumped
on the SEO wagon at the time, announcing they would not publish it, but
refer to the team only as Washington.
Apparently, though, WTOP isn't one of 'em. Just so we're clear: It's OK for WTOP to use what many deem an offensive and derogatory nickname in making an apology for a radio guest who made an offensive and derogatory comment.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Friday, May 7, 2010
Blood-sucking vampires
It is Twilight as I'm typing to complain about the American Red Cross. With the number of phone calls I have received lately, you would think the Red Cross was running for a vacant Senate seat. I hung up on the caller for the second time in three days.
I gave blood for the first time a few months ago. I had been meaning to do it for years, but like so many things, just never got around to it. Finally, in February, at the senior center up the street, I did and I felt good about it, even if the tech was a little freaky.
She was a little too excited to see my "lovely, luscious vein." She was pretty and perky and the way her eyes got all big as she inserted the needle making me feel like a supporting character in a Charlaine Harris novel. The time it took me to fill the pint bag came in at the low end of the average ... for men. Being competitive in anything and everything, I do boast about that a little.
A few weeks after I gave blood, I got my donor card and promptly tucked it in my wallet. I checked online for another local blood drive in April when I was eligible, but none were convenient. I got a flyer in the mail, listing upcoming drives. A few days later, I also got a phone call from an eager young man who was giving me the same information that was in the mailer.
It is now the end of the first week of May. I got the May flyer last week, and noticed the Red Cross will be back at my senior center in a couple of weeks, so that's on my calendar. On Wednesday, the Red Cross called. I said thanks, I got the flyer and hung up.
Tonight, the Red Cross called again. I said, sorry, wrong number and hung up. Again.
I understand that the need for blood is critical. When there's a disaster along the lines of 9/11 or Hurricane Katrina, donations soar. But blood has a short shelf life. If it's not used in a certain amount of time, it has to be thrown out. The Red Cross needs more donors and needs them to donate consistently.
However, the repeated phone calls, on top of the mailings, are not the way to get me to donate again. It makes the American Red Cross seem like blood-sucking vampires.
It also makes me question how the nonprofit is spending the monetary donations it receives. According to the Better Business Bureau, 90 percent of donations go to targets; 4 percent to fund-raising and 6 percent to administrative costs. I hope so, but between the amount of mail I'm receiving and the number of phone calls I'm getting, that seems hard to believe.
And the Red Cross isn't that much different from the other charities I choose to support. Many have figured out that email is more cost-effective, but many still choose to mail or call, often for additional donations. Here's a news flash for them: I have given as much as I can. Try eliminating the mailings and paying for the staff who is calling me and see how much farther my donation goes toward supporting your programs.
Think about it: You try to do the right thing, then regularly have someone calling you to tell you it wasn't enough. It makes me tired. And it makes me want to find some other way to give.
With the Red Cross, my donation isn't monetary, but the principle is the same. Maybe I should go out and find a vampire to whom I can offer my blood directly. At least, I would know for sure that my donation is going to save a life. And I wouldn't get nearly as many phone calls.
I gave blood for the first time a few months ago. I had been meaning to do it for years, but like so many things, just never got around to it. Finally, in February, at the senior center up the street, I did and I felt good about it, even if the tech was a little freaky.
She was a little too excited to see my "lovely, luscious vein." She was pretty and perky and the way her eyes got all big as she inserted the needle making me feel like a supporting character in a Charlaine Harris novel. The time it took me to fill the pint bag came in at the low end of the average ... for men. Being competitive in anything and everything, I do boast about that a little.
A few weeks after I gave blood, I got my donor card and promptly tucked it in my wallet. I checked online for another local blood drive in April when I was eligible, but none were convenient. I got a flyer in the mail, listing upcoming drives. A few days later, I also got a phone call from an eager young man who was giving me the same information that was in the mailer.
It is now the end of the first week of May. I got the May flyer last week, and noticed the Red Cross will be back at my senior center in a couple of weeks, so that's on my calendar. On Wednesday, the Red Cross called. I said thanks, I got the flyer and hung up.
Tonight, the Red Cross called again. I said, sorry, wrong number and hung up. Again.
I understand that the need for blood is critical. When there's a disaster along the lines of 9/11 or Hurricane Katrina, donations soar. But blood has a short shelf life. If it's not used in a certain amount of time, it has to be thrown out. The Red Cross needs more donors and needs them to donate consistently.
However, the repeated phone calls, on top of the mailings, are not the way to get me to donate again. It makes the American Red Cross seem like blood-sucking vampires.
It also makes me question how the nonprofit is spending the monetary donations it receives. According to the Better Business Bureau, 90 percent of donations go to targets; 4 percent to fund-raising and 6 percent to administrative costs. I hope so, but between the amount of mail I'm receiving and the number of phone calls I'm getting, that seems hard to believe.
And the Red Cross isn't that much different from the other charities I choose to support. Many have figured out that email is more cost-effective, but many still choose to mail or call, often for additional donations. Here's a news flash for them: I have given as much as I can. Try eliminating the mailings and paying for the staff who is calling me and see how much farther my donation goes toward supporting your programs.
Think about it: You try to do the right thing, then regularly have someone calling you to tell you it wasn't enough. It makes me tired. And it makes me want to find some other way to give.
With the Red Cross, my donation isn't monetary, but the principle is the same. Maybe I should go out and find a vampire to whom I can offer my blood directly. At least, I would know for sure that my donation is going to save a life. And I wouldn't get nearly as many phone calls.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
"Now that you're single ..."
It's never easy to tell friends and family you're getting divorced. I suppose it's not easy to respond to the news either.But when I started telling people my 15-year marriage was ending, the first thing that several -- meaning more than three -- people said to me was: "Now that you're single, you really should change your picture on Facebook."
Do I even need to mention they were all male?
For background, my "picture" on Facebook is the graphic inset here. I've used this graphic for years because I think it represents me pretty well. Half the time I'm at the end of my rope, half the time it's "Ready or not, here I come." I think it's witty and sarcastic and ironic and creative. All things I try to be.
There are also 560 Michelle McKenzies on Facebook. People searching for me know immediately which one I am, in part because it's witty and sarcastic and creative.
And hey, she's got great legs.
But apparently, if you're single, people want to know what you look like. Of course, none of the three guys who very sincerely suggested this took into account that my "friends" on Facebook are actually *gasp* friends. I don't take random friend requests. My friends already know what I look like, appreciate the graphic and have no interest in dating either one of us.
And just the idea of dating makes me want to, well, scream, grab a rope and jump.
I understand the power of social media, I appreciate it and I try to use it when it fits my needs. But I don't think that changing my picture on Facebook (or Twitter for that matter), really fits those needs.
I also find it curious that these three "wise men" all assumed that because I am now single, that I don't want to be. Maybe that's how it is these days. Becoming single is the start of the pursuit of becoming unsingle. And that, in turn, is hangs in the balance of what I look like instead of who I am.
No thanks. Those days are over.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Getting it off my chest
The recent news about the former Miss California, Carrie Prejean, getting a book deal opens the door for me to rant for a moment about the fact that the Miss California Pageant paid for her breast implants.
Now, I don’t have a problem with any getting implants and I am willing to wager that the majority of beauty pageant contestants have got them. What’s really sticking in my craw, is that the Miss California Pageant paid for them before she went on to compete for the Miss USA title.
Not Prejean herself, but the people running the show. I’m sure the California pageant officials just thought they were leveling the playing field. But I can’t help but wonder if they were sitting around a table sizing up the competition when they decided their Barbie lookalike would be a bust without a bigger bust.
Keith Lewis, the co-director for the pageant, has said bigger boobs were Prejean’s idea. And in May, he told an “Early Show” anchor that his board meets with the titleholder and asks questions about her opinion of herself and what can give her the “best possible confidence … to present herself … on the national stage.”
The woman had already won the state pageant in one of the biggest states in the country. Funny, but for me, that’d be a pretty big confidence boost. Or affirmation.
From where I sit, this is like the director of baseball operations for the Kansas City Royals (who stink, to you nonbaseball-types) holding a team meeting to tell his players they’ll all be getting HGH injections so they’ll hit more homeruns and throw harder pitches.
Granted, HGH is a banned substance and silicone is not. If Prejean paid for the implants herself -- taken out a loan, held a bake sale, whatever – I’d have no problem with it.
But when the California pageant coughed up the dough for the augmentation, it sent (yet another) message to young women everywhere about body image and who makes the decisions about how we look.
By the way, there’s no word yet on whether or not Prejean will have to give her breasts back or reimburse the pageant since she lost the crown. Over nude pictures. Taken before the surgery. Anyone else see the irony?
Now, I don’t have a problem with any getting implants and I am willing to wager that the majority of beauty pageant contestants have got them. What’s really sticking in my craw, is that the Miss California Pageant paid for them before she went on to compete for the Miss USA title.
Not Prejean herself, but the people running the show. I’m sure the California pageant officials just thought they were leveling the playing field. But I can’t help but wonder if they were sitting around a table sizing up the competition when they decided their Barbie lookalike would be a bust without a bigger bust.
Keith Lewis, the co-director for the pageant, has said bigger boobs were Prejean’s idea. And in May, he told an “Early Show” anchor that his board meets with the titleholder and asks questions about her opinion of herself and what can give her the “best possible confidence … to present herself … on the national stage.”
The woman had already won the state pageant in one of the biggest states in the country. Funny, but for me, that’d be a pretty big confidence boost. Or affirmation.
From where I sit, this is like the director of baseball operations for the Kansas City Royals (who stink, to you nonbaseball-types) holding a team meeting to tell his players they’ll all be getting HGH injections so they’ll hit more homeruns and throw harder pitches.
Granted, HGH is a banned substance and silicone is not. If Prejean paid for the implants herself -- taken out a loan, held a bake sale, whatever – I’d have no problem with it.
But when the California pageant coughed up the dough for the augmentation, it sent (yet another) message to young women everywhere about body image and who makes the decisions about how we look.
By the way, there’s no word yet on whether or not Prejean will have to give her breasts back or reimburse the pageant since she lost the crown. Over nude pictures. Taken before the surgery. Anyone else see the irony?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Heroes
I read a story last week bemoaning the way we tend to make heroes out of sports stars. And it's true. Just because a guy can hit a ball a long way or throw a ball a long way or swim better than anyone else in the world doesn't make him a hero. It just makes him rich.
Same goes for entertainers. Just because somebody can dance or act or sing doesn't mean he's above hitting a woman (James Brown, Chris Brown ... I can get cross-generational), or serves as a role model.
But the story I read last week pretty much said that no athletes should be revered as heroes, and that's simply not true. The problem is, the stories about heroes -- true heroes who are building their communities from the grassroots up or making huge differences in average lives and don't have a publicist shouting their every deed from the rooftops -- these stories usually don't get told.
Thankfully, sometimes they do. Like this one about the DeKalb, Ill., high school basketball team. Its players and coach are heroes and athletes and inspiration for all of us.
Same goes for entertainers. Just because somebody can dance or act or sing doesn't mean he's above hitting a woman (James Brown, Chris Brown ... I can get cross-generational), or serves as a role model.
But the story I read last week pretty much said that no athletes should be revered as heroes, and that's simply not true. The problem is, the stories about heroes -- true heroes who are building their communities from the grassroots up or making huge differences in average lives and don't have a publicist shouting their every deed from the rooftops -- these stories usually don't get told.
Thankfully, sometimes they do. Like this one about the DeKalb, Ill., high school basketball team. Its players and coach are heroes and athletes and inspiration for all of us.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Attitude
I'm sure people sometimes wonder (although they don't really ask) about my attitude.
I've got one. I admit it. It comes across differently to different people -- and yeah, there are some who might call it "bad." But not to my face. I think most people who think they know me call it tough.
Basically, it's just attitude. I tell you what I think, when I think it. Occasionally, and unfortunately, my next thought is "I really should keep that to myself."
Hence, the attitude.
For those who wonder where it comes from though, it's in my Michigan roots and this sums it up perfectly: Apparently, WDIV, the NBC affiliate in Detroit that broadcast the Super Bowl, ran a disclaimer across the bottom of the screen EVERY TIME "analyst" Matt Millen appeared on-screen.
And it read thusly: "Matt Millen was president of the Lions for the worst eight-year run in the history of the NFL. Knowing his history with the team, is there a credibility issue as he now serves as an analyst for NBC Sports?"
I have to say that I was a bit, er, taken aback when I saw Millen giving viewers his thoughts during football's biggest game. It's kind of like if George Bush were to be hired by NBC as a stock analyst.
I'm not saying that just because Millen had absolutely no judgment when it came to staffing a football team and selecting talent that he couldn't effectively tell viewers what was happening on the field.
I am saying that you don't reward the guy that drives the bus off the cliff. I am saying that there were at least a handful of former coaches/execs out there that would have been a better, more respectable choice. And I'm saying I turned the volume off whenever Millen's mug showed up on the screen.
Way to go WDIV. Attitude? You betcha. Got a problem with that?
I've got one. I admit it. It comes across differently to different people -- and yeah, there are some who might call it "bad." But not to my face. I think most people who think they know me call it tough.
Basically, it's just attitude. I tell you what I think, when I think it. Occasionally, and unfortunately, my next thought is "I really should keep that to myself."
Hence, the attitude.
For those who wonder where it comes from though, it's in my Michigan roots and this sums it up perfectly: Apparently, WDIV, the NBC affiliate in Detroit that broadcast the Super Bowl, ran a disclaimer across the bottom of the screen EVERY TIME "analyst" Matt Millen appeared on-screen.
And it read thusly: "Matt Millen was president of the Lions for the worst eight-year run in the history of the NFL. Knowing his history with the team, is there a credibility issue as he now serves as an analyst for NBC Sports?"
I have to say that I was a bit, er, taken aback when I saw Millen giving viewers his thoughts during football's biggest game. It's kind of like if George Bush were to be hired by NBC as a stock analyst.
I'm not saying that just because Millen had absolutely no judgment when it came to staffing a football team and selecting talent that he couldn't effectively tell viewers what was happening on the field.
I am saying that you don't reward the guy that drives the bus off the cliff. I am saying that there were at least a handful of former coaches/execs out there that would have been a better, more respectable choice. And I'm saying I turned the volume off whenever Millen's mug showed up on the screen.
Way to go WDIV. Attitude? You betcha. Got a problem with that?
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
College football's no-brainer
Oooooak-la-homa ... that wind that comes rushing down the plain is the huge sigh of relief from Sooners fans who found out today that they'll have Heisman-winning quarterback Sam Bradford for one more season.
Hmmm ... maybe it's me (and often it is) but it seems like the most recognizable names in college football this season are staying put rather than coming out for the NFL draft. And you can't help but wonder if for guys like Bradford the Detroit Lions weighed in on the decision-making process.
And think about it: the 0-16 Lions are so bad, the top prospects would stay in school, risk injury or their stock dropping with a sub-par season rather than being the No. 1 draft choice and being sentenced to serving time in Detroit.
Guys like Bradford are smart enough to know that the economy is going to recover before the Lions. They're smart enough, but probably not old enough, to realize that the Lions are William Clay Ford's version of the Pinto. Hit 'em and they explode. They're smart enough to know that the fans in Detroit will suffer through 0-20, 1-23, 4-28 before they start to see enough consistency to think about having a .500 team, let alone a playoff team.
The Lions are not the 2008 Atlanta Falcons. There was some talent there. The Falcons' biggest problem was image. And with a guy like Matt Ryan, it wasn't hard to fix.
In Detroit, the problems are more than skin deep and a pretty face isn't going to fix it. There's always a chance they'll trade it away. But if they keep it, for a short time, the No. 1 pick will be seen as a savior. But as soon as the reality of the Motor City Breakdown sets in, it'll be clear that the No. 1 pick, whoever he is, is just a start on a very long road to redemption.
Hmmm ... maybe it's me (and often it is) but it seems like the most recognizable names in college football this season are staying put rather than coming out for the NFL draft. And you can't help but wonder if for guys like Bradford the Detroit Lions weighed in on the decision-making process.
And think about it: the 0-16 Lions are so bad, the top prospects would stay in school, risk injury or their stock dropping with a sub-par season rather than being the No. 1 draft choice and being sentenced to serving time in Detroit.
Guys like Bradford are smart enough to know that the economy is going to recover before the Lions. They're smart enough, but probably not old enough, to realize that the Lions are William Clay Ford's version of the Pinto. Hit 'em and they explode. They're smart enough to know that the fans in Detroit will suffer through 0-20, 1-23, 4-28 before they start to see enough consistency to think about having a .500 team, let alone a playoff team.
The Lions are not the 2008 Atlanta Falcons. There was some talent there. The Falcons' biggest problem was image. And with a guy like Matt Ryan, it wasn't hard to fix.
In Detroit, the problems are more than skin deep and a pretty face isn't going to fix it. There's always a chance they'll trade it away. But if they keep it, for a short time, the No. 1 pick will be seen as a savior. But as soon as the reality of the Motor City Breakdown sets in, it'll be clear that the No. 1 pick, whoever he is, is just a start on a very long road to redemption.
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