Friday, September 28, 2007

10 Most Stylish Men

GQ's 50 Most Stylish Men is up. Is hot. Is niiiicee. Go check it out for yourself. I picked up some of their better photographs (and I must say, they made some merely handsome men look astonishing, and some astonishing men look like they got caught in a bad mugshot) to see if America really is where I should seek to expand my gene pool (okay, that's sort of a joke). The final tally on MY list of hot older men gives Europe a decisive victory (6 - 4), but in all fairness, they've got a ton more countries and most fashion photographers are probably Europhiles anyhow. In any case, America can still lay claim to the inimitable Bob Dylan, Marlon Brando, Robert Redford, and Miles Davis.

Ogle away, do ogle away....
























Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Monday, September 24, 2007

sex, really?

Lydia says I only get all riled up when I talk about sex. True? Not true? I'm curious to see what other people think.

and suddenly we're in love with everything....

I had a great listen to "The Shining" with my sis the other day in the car, and it reminded me of how much this song used to comfort me (and still does). To this end, I wanted to share the joy of Badly Drawn Boy with other people. If you've ever listened to the delightful soundtrack from the movie About a Boy, you'd have gotten a sense of the childish innocence and adult gravity that paradoxically, ingeniously infuses his music.


Below is a live version of "The Shining," replete with the somber trombone intro that belies the optimism of the remainder of the song, a juxtaposition that beautifully captures the message of the song.



Also, "Once Around the Block," which is one of the most endearing adult love songs of all time.

You quiver like a candle on fire
I'm putting you out
Maybe tonight we could be the last shout
But I'm fascinated by your style
Your beauty will last for a while

You're feeling instead of being
The more that I live on the inside
There's nothing to give
I'm infatuated by your moves
I'm got to search out for your clues

I want to repair your desire
And call it a gift that I stole from
just wanting to live
Now I see the vision through your eyes
Your innocence no longer fuels surprise

Trying to outrun your fear
Your running to lose, heart on your sleeve
And your soul in your shoes
Take a left, a sharp left
And another left, meet me on the corner
And we'll start again

Private Does Not Equal Better

Here is a link to a recent NY Times article about the poor quality of care in nursing homes acquired by private investment firms. I've heard the argument many times before (and believed) that private companies outperform governmentally-owned institutions because they obey the laws of the market, but apparently, that's not always true. Some shocking excerpts from the article:

"But by many regulatory benchmarks, residents at those nursing homes are worse off, on average, than they were under previous owners, according to an analysis by The New York Times of data collected by government agencies from 2000 to 2006. The Times analysis shows that, as at Habana, managers at many other nursing homes acquired by large private investors have cut expenses and staff, sometimes below minimum legal requirements. "

"But private investment companies have made it very difficult for plaintiffs to succeed in court and for regulators to levy chainwide fines by creating complex corporate structures that obscure who controls their nursing homes. By contrast, publicly owned nursing home chains are essentially required to disclose who controls their facilities in securities filings and other regulatory documents. "

"About 70 percent of lawyers who once sued homes have stopped because the cases became too expensive or difficult, estimates Nathan P. Carter, a plaintiffs’ lawyer in Florida. “In one case, I had to sue 22 different companies,” he said. “In another, I got a $400,000 verdict and ended up collecting only $25,000.” "

"... in recent years, large private investment groups have agreed to buy 6 of the nation’s 10 largest nursing home chains... The typical large chain owned by an investment company in 2005 earned $1,700 a resident, according to reports filed by the facilities. Those homes, on average, were 41 percent more profitable than the average facility."

"Homes owned by large private investment firms provided one clinical registered nurse for every 20 residents, 35 percent below the national average, the analysis showed. "

"Florida’s Agency for Health Care Administration has named Habana and 34 other homes owned by Formation and operated by affiliates of Warburg Pincus as among the state’s worst in categories like “nutrition and hydration,” “restraints and abuse” and “quality of care.” Those homes have been individually cited for violations of safety codes, but there have been no chainwide investigations or fines, because regulators were unaware that all the facilities were owned and operated by a common group, said Molly McKinstry, bureau chief for long-term-care services at Florida’s Agency for Health Care Administration."

So please do your research and think twice before putting your loved ones into a privating owned nursing home!

Sunday, September 23, 2007

it's coming up...

... Breast Cancer Awareness Month, that is. As October approaches, I'd like to take a few moments to reflect a bit on this national movement, and how much my reaction to breast cancer - and cancer in general - has changed over the years.

When I was younger, cancers were something that happened to old people who had lived long, fulfilling lives - a natural way to die, in other words. As I've gotten older, it's simply amazed me how many YOUNG people suffer from cancer. It's an odd, oppressive feeling to realize that people you've know, people in their prime, could be gone by age 30, struck down by diseases that the lay-person can comment about with naive confidence, "Oh, well, with modern medicine, you'll kick that cancer's ass in no time!" I mean, sure, many people are breast cancer "survivors," but let's be honest: even if you live - and there's no guarantee of that - "surviving" doesn't mean "life goes back to pre-cancer-diagnosis normality."

Another thing is the whole pink ribbon phenomenon, and ribbons in general. I'm completely torn about how I feel about them. On the one hand, I think they're extremely catchy and are thus a perfect way to raise people's awareness, and I think it's okay if the message takes a little longer to sink in than the crusading spirit. On the other hand, the mass commercialization of ribbons does give me some pause, and I do worry, as this writer does, that people will spend all their effort on buying ribbons and not pay attention to organizations that accomplish a lot in the fight against breast cancer.

Am I worry-wart all of a sudden, or what? Ambivalence seems to be my lot in life...

Anyways, I want to end this post with a pitch for a truly terrific, humane, and insightful book about being diagnosed with breast cancer (although I think it applies to just about any cancer that might afflict a younger person): Mariam Engelberg's Breast Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person. I don't have a cancer diagnosis, but I'm pretty sure that if I did, I would react pretty much the way Engelberg did, with the same questions and the same annoyances and the same confusion. I really think everyone should read this book, and certainly every future doctor. Sometimes we are so concerned with the medical aspects of the disease that we forget all the other dimensions of it, some of which ultimately matter more.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

not to be crude but...



I thought all wine was kama sutra wine, given the right amount?

Apparently not.... you can get the REAL type here....

CUDDLE PARTY

Ah yes, the cuddle party... that slightly platonic fantasy that everyone has but everyone is also too embarrassed to own up to (I mean, seriously, it's just too half way). BUT, if the urge strikes you, apparently a huge one is happening in NYC on Oct 5th, and there's no reason that you can't emulate them and have your own in Atlanta, or Augusta, or wherever....

But FIRST, a list of "cuddle party" rules courtesy of the brilliant, "Hi, I'm the New Yorker but on the internet, and by young intellectuals!," McSweeneys:


RULES FOR MY CUDDLE PARTY.
BY MIKE SACKS

1. Please do not give birth in the hot tub. The only reason I say as much is because at my last cuddle party, a woman gave "natural" birth to a set of twins in the hot tub.

2. I'd appreciate it if you didn't use my grandmother's hand-knitted pillows as an impromptu sex swing. I only bring this up because at my last cuddle party, a man by the name of "Mr. Pump" (nickname?) used my grandmother's knitted pillows as an impromptu sex swing.

3. I'm the "lifeguard." That means I'm in charge. Whatever I say, goes. When I drop this ostrich feather, that means it's officially time to begin. Also, if I tell you not to use my prescription psoriasis ointment as a sex lubricant, please don't. I only say this because at my last cuddle party, a group of teens from the local high school found their way into my medicine cabinet, climbed on top of my kitchen table, and then used my psoriasis ointment as a sex lubricant.

4. Please do not frighten any of the neighbors, especially the easily startled 89-year-old with the propensity for calling the authorities. I'm telling you this because at my last cuddle party, a group of recently released prisoners (none of whom I had previously met, and who had only learned about my cuddle party from a mysterious pamphlet stapled to a lamppost across from a methadone clinic) loudly popped their "freedom cherries" beneath the bedroom window of my neighbor, the easily startled 89-year-old with the propensity for calling the authorities.

5. I would love it if you did not urinate into my backyard air-conditioning compressor. I'm no Nostradamus, far from it, just an accountant, new to the area, whose only wish last weekend was to throw a cuddle party to meet some fantastic new friends and to create an alcohol- and drug-free environment where people could explore nonsexual touch and unlimited affection without being criticized. What I'm trying to say is that I'm definitely not the type of person who can somehow peek into the future and magically foresee that a middle-aged woman, wearing only panties depicting Bugs Bunny with a large gray erection, would (for whatever reason) show up at my house on a mini motorbike, quickly become drunk off homemade strawberry wine, and then urinate into my backyard air-conditioning compressor.

6. One last thing: Would you please refrain from taking an oatmeal bath in my guest bedroom, even if you do happen to have a rash on your genitals? I hesitate to even bring this up, but at my last cuddle party—before the state police, the local TV news, and a group of representatives from the Department of Health and Human Services all broke down my front door—a dishwasher on his lunch break from the Old Spaghetti Factory snuck into my kitchen, stole a container of oatmeal, and then took a long, medicated soak in my guest bedroom, which just so happens to not contain a bathroom or a bathtub.

7. Got it? Good! Actually, not good. Wonderful! Because with that "official business" now out of the way, let's. Do. Some. Serious. Cuddlin'!!!!

Your official "cuddle-party lifeguard,"
Mike

P.S. Oh, yes: please feel free to help yourself to the deli and egg-salad spread.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Yaaaaay

I had a really good Labor Day Weekend, probably one of the best in years (I mean, usually, I don't even know when Labor Day is!!).

Friday night, I got back to Atlanta, and watched the Simpsons movie with Lisa. To my pleasant surprise, it was good! I had been really worried that it was going to be overambitious, try to tie everything in, make lots of references to past episodes, etc. Luckily, Matt Groening and crew are smart, and they ended up with a long, yet delightful episode that masqueraded itself as a movie. I would highly recommend seeing it. There are many clever one-liners, and the characters are summed up very well.

Saturday was spent at Six Flags with my sister and friend of hers. We literally were there from park open to park close. Frankly, I don't think I've EVER done that before, just because it's usually such a bitch to wait in the roller coaster lines. But this time, for some weird reason, there weren't a lot of people there - despite the fact that it was a national holiday and everyone had time to go - and we never had to wait in line for a ride for more than an hour (and that was because something broke down). AWESOME.

Thes rest of the week was good family time, and I am so glad I went back. I feel much more relaxed, and even though I was totally unproductive the entire weekend, I am more ready now to tackle Test #2 and whatever other challenges med school throws my way.

Finally, to sum up this post, a music video Blast from the Past!! I heard this on the way back to Augusta, and I couldn't help but recall how much I freakin'' LOVED this song. Funny how some things change and some things don't...